Supernatural Blood, Part II
by Elpin
Summary: Eric is still missing, Dean won't talk about hell, and the Apocalypse is right around the corner. Sam's secret is going to be a problem too. It's never easy for the Winchesters.  read part one first  Eric/Sam. MATURE CONTENT
1. Chapter 1

**Notes**: I don't know why, but this story won't leave me the bloody well alone! Seriously, tell me its a waste of time and not to bother any more. I need to be doing other things!

Supernatural Blood, Part 2, chapter 1.  
>Rating: M (Mature Content!)<p>

Summary: Eric is still missing, Dean won't talk about hell, and the Apocalypse is around the corner. Sam's secret is going to be a problem too.

_Supernatural Blood, Part 2_

_Chapter 1. _

The same sound had been driving Sam crazy for hours. A small thud every one and a half seconds as the car passed over the seam in the concrete slabs used instead of asphalt. Every one and a half seconds, like clockwork, because Dean was sticking to the speed limit for some reason. The windows were all down, and the wind gave a little relief from the heat, but the constant thudding was draining Sam of all remaining willpower.

It didn't help that he had been staring at the endless expanse of nothingness for what felt like hours. They were really heading into Nowhere, USA now, and in an area they usually didn't do that much business in. A small town that used to be a hub of activity for people going west, but now barely a blimp on a map thanks to highways and cheaper air travel. Sam wondered if vampires enjoyed the desert. It seemed after everything he thought about these day, he would soon wonder if vampires enjoyed. It was cold at night in deserts, Sam recalled. Maybe they liked that.

'You alive over there?' Dean asked. The radio wasn't working, or maybe not even radio waves survived out here. Sam wanted to stick his head out the window like a dog.

'Yeah,' he replied, bored and hot. The only reason he was still wearing his sweat soaked t-shirt was that if he took it off, his arms would probably stick to his torso and melt together.

'You sure?' Sam sighed at Dean's nagging. His brother was always nagging, probably to stop Sam from nagging at him. In the end they both shut up because neither was going to talk about it. So they drove, hunted and drank till sunrise. No more witty quips or hustling pool together. Dean took care of business with credit cards and poker tables where he could find them. They barely even stopped to eat these days; Dean had become an expert in eating while driving.

'I'm breathing,' Sam sighed, confirming he was in fact his inner emo supplied and he suppressed the urge to grimace.

'You're wearing your thinking bitch face,' Dean told him, 'which means you're thinking too much, about stuff that's no good thinking about.'

'You should stick to thinking about the road,' Sam snarked back.

'Cute,' Dean snapped. They fell into their uneasy silence, a by now familiar companion. Sam hadn't heard squat from Eric in almost two weeks. It seemed like two years, and he was very slowly coming to the conclusion that it might well be two years one day. It seemed blasphemous, but he couldn't help thinking he hadn't been nearly this depressed when Jess died. Sure, he'd been devastated and inconsolable for the first few months, and he hadn't been able to look at another woman for a long time, but with Eric... it was like he couldn't even let himself accept that the immortal vampire was dead, because he knew he'd just loose it if he did. So he stubbornly wore his "thinking bitch face" and held himself together through sheer denial.

Dean didn't seem to be doing much better. He had nightmares; worse nightmares than Sam ever had about Jess. Sometimes he even screamed bloody murder, but neither of them talked about it. It was hell, Sam was sure of it, but he had given up asking about it. If Dean wanted to bottle his pain, let him drink the home-made brew on his own.

'Let's talk about the case, at least,' Dean tried.

'Demon signs,' Sam explained in a monotone voice, 'a few people gone missing, weird weather, crops gone- whatever kind that can grow out here -livestock drained, and then nothing.'

'Nothing?'

'It's like the town fell off the map,' Sam straightened himself as he got into his attempts at research. 'I can't get through to the Sheriff's office, or any other phone in the area. I can't find anyone who seems to care it's gone either. The local newspaper had a website, pretty basic, probably run by the one guy with a internet connection, but it hasn't been updated since Friday.'

'Huh, sounds like the demons have taken over.'

'Maybe.'

'Usually, when stuff like that happens, we're already in the middle of it.'

'Yeah, we might not be able to get in. They might have found a way to physically cut the town off.'

They both fell silent for a moment as they contemplated what kind of ways the demons might have employed to seal off a town. Destroyed bridges had worked well in the past, but there weren't many rivers around here. It was a very small town, though, only a couple hundred people. Easy to miss if you weren't looking for it.

'The world is pretty weird,' Dean suddenly commented.

'Not that I don't know that,' Sam said, 'but did you mean any way in particular?' Dean shrugged, eyes on the road, but Sam noticed a bitter twist of the mouth.

'Just how people today seem to be so connected. I'm constantly saying no to chicks who ask me if I'm on the damn face-thing.' Sam snorted. 'And yet no one notices that a whole damn town just flickers out of existence.' Dean raised his right hand and flicked his fingers as if he was discarding a cigarette bud.

'Yeah,' Sam agreed quietly. 'But we know it's happened before, and probably will again if the demons get their Apocalypse going.'

'I wonder how long it will take before people notice.'

'People don't want to notice, Dean,' he pointed out. 'That's why we have a job in the first place.'

'Yeah, I know.'

Sam went back to looking out the window, and the dull thudding every one and a half seconds counted down to their destination.

XXX

The road into town turned to asphalt at last - which was a relief after all that thudding - with a layer of fine dirt blown over. Sam saw the town in the distance a long way off due to the flat expanse of nothingness, though they could see hills - or maybe they were mountains, Sam couldn't tell - behind the town along the horizon.

The town grew steadily larger, yet no roadblock appeared. They rolled into town down main street like right out of an old west novel. The Impala disturbed a layer of dust as Dean parked by the cracked pavement, and it took a moment before the wind blew it away so they could take a look around.

Dead might be the best word. To the Winchesters a ghost town was anything but dead; it usually involved a whole lot of activity. This place, though, was dead. For a few buildings, it looked like someone had transported them from some imaginary spacey future into the past, and then left them to rust until present time. You could tell they had once been new and white and rounded. There was even an old movie theatre with a big planet model on top with the words "Movie World" in big faded red letters. Maybe once upon a time it had rotated. There was a few pastel Cadillacs scattered here and there, their spiky wings sticking out at the rear giving no more illusions of flight.

For other buildings it was just regular desolation, the slow kind thanks to wind and sand, not rot. Most of the oldest buildings were made of wood, though they could have been made of straw and caked mud from the look of them.

This had been a place for tourists to stop. There were two old gas stations, one on either side of the road a few hundred yards apart. One had been closed longer than the other, but both now sported boarded up windows. Maybe the few people left didn't need gas because they weren't going anywhere.

They got out of the car and walked slowly to a small brick building proclaiming it was the Sheriff's Office. It seemed the safest bet under the circumstances. They had their weapons out, both of their sawed-offs, the knife in Sam's belt, and of course, holy water in their pockets.

The Sheriff's building was the only thing that looked old in the traditional sense, and seemed to have weathered the wind thanks to its brick structure. The doors weren't locked and the place was empty. Sam checked the stone-age computer, but the power was out. It was out everywhere they would soon find out. The cells were empty. There was no sign of a struggle.

'This is creepy,' Dean said as they made their way outside again, looking up and down the road in search of somewhere to check next. The sun seem to swallow everything in a haze, like you couldn't quite decide if it was all a mirage, only without the promise of water.

'You think it's the Croatoan virus again?' Sam asked.

'Maybe, but wouldn't there be a couple of them running around? We haven't exactly come in on stealth-mode. We're easy snacks.' They looked around again, waiting to see if any zombie-esque creatures sprang forth, but none came.

'Maybe the demons just killed everyone, or possessed them all and... I don't know, went wherever it is possessed demons go.'

'A whole town?' Dean sounded dubious.

'A lot of demons got out of the gate,' Sam pointed out. 'We haven't even come close to getting them all.'

'They've been running around wherever they please, though,' Dean pointed out. 'A whole town in one go? That has to be organised.' Sam raised his eyebrows in contemplation.

'Maybe they're becoming organised,' he suggested, 'maybe someone is rallying them to their cause...'

'Someone like Lilith?' Sam shrugged as if to say "who knows", but they were both thinking it. If someone wanted to take a bunch of people for an army, where better? Nice, easy and quick. Humanity wouldn't know what hit them when the demons came out of the closet to proclaim the Apocalypse.

'Let's check the rest out just to be sure,' Dean said and Sam nodded his agreement. They decided to split up to cover more ground.

Sam went down a side street that ran parallel to main street It wasn't much more than a alley between the houses that faced main street, and the old shacks that you could barely call houses. It was like they had been relegated to behind the scenes for the sake of the tourists. Sam wondered if the people who had lived in them had been like that too: ugly or unwanted, something to hide away from the nice people who came to spend their money here.

The place had that eerie quiet feel about it. A few cactuses and other desert plants had sprung up here and there, but otherwise it was like the very ground was dead. The sun was was her highest point, so the main buildings cast long shadows across the way, leaving Sam blinking every time he stepped into the rays of light that shone between.

A meow startled him more than it should have. Sam spun towards it out of instinct, shot-gun aimed directly at the cat's head. He sighed in relief when all it did was lick its paw at him. It was sitting on the stairs of one of the old shacks, which had once been painted yellow. The one window on the ground floor was boarded up. Sam looked up to see the same was true of the first floor. He gazed back down at the cat. It was nearly all black, except for a white spot at the end of its tail.

'You're immune too, huh?' Sam asked the feline. He didn't like thinking about his own immunity, for it invariably led to thoughts about demon blood, old hunting lodges, vampires and Eric. All roads of thought seemed to go in that direction.

The cat meowed again and turned to trot up the stairs. It scratched at the door and Sam frowned. Why wasn't it using the cat-flap? He took a few cautious steps up, careful to listen to the creaking in case the whole thing decided to give.

Now that he was level with the door he could see a white line of salt, and that the cat-flap had been nailed shut. He hesitated, then he knocked, and waited.

He was pretty sure he heard something move within. There was a slow creaking. He thought he saw a shadow move behind the boards on the window. He held the shot-gun tight in his hand, but lowered it to his side. The cat meowed and scratched.

The creaking stopped just behind the door.

'Go away,' a frail woman's voice said, causing Sam to blink in astonishment. Though frail, it sounded determined.

'Ma'm, are you all right?' Sam ventured. 'I'm here with my brother, we're looking around town-'

'Get out,' the voice said. It wasn't an order, but a plea this time. 'Go away.' Sam swallowed.

'Have people been acting strange, Ma'm?' he asked.

'Not people,' the voice told him, 'demons.' It took a moment before Sam understood that he had not misheard the woman.

'Are they-' Sam paused as he considered his words, his mind racing. 'Are they still here?'

'In Movie World,' the voice said. 'They're hold up in the old movie theatre. You should get out. Don't go in there.'

'Do you know how many there are?' Sam pressed. The voice seemed to hesitate

'I'm not sure. They dragged people in there. At night they make them scream, to make the rest of us come out. They say they'll spare us if we do, but they won't. It's all a game.'

'A game?' Sam's ear was pressed to the door by that point, listening intently.

'They said the town was theirs, their playground. It sounded... like they were waiting for something.'

'Ma'm, please,' Sam urged, 'do you have any idea of how many demons there are?'

'Five, maybe ten, I don't know. They'd jump from person to person. I've been in here since day one, but I hear things.' Since the woman obviously knew about demons and salt, maybe she was the resident psychic, or maybe the demons went around town taunting the people who had managed to hide. It was all a game, he thought, and felt cold dread at idea of living like this for so long.

'Me and my brother are going to take care of this,' Sam told her. A hollow promise, perhaps, but he had made those before.

'Get out,' the woman repeated. Suddenly, the door opened a crack, a chain keeping Sam from pushing it further. The cat slipped in and the door slammed shut immediately. Sam noticed the cat hadn't disturbed the salt.

He left for main street to find Dean.

He saw Movie World, located seemingly at the end of the main road, though it was really where the main street turned in a ninety degree angle, before turning again almost immediately and continuing on through the rest of the town. The Saturn-like planet that sat on top of the building, beckoning. Behind him the Impala sat undisturbed. He returned to it first and popped the trunk, grabbing spray paint and the can of salt. He found a bag to carry it in and slung it tight over his shoulder so it stayed on his back and didn't dangle free. He kept watch as he moved quickly and silently back across the street where the buildings were closer together and offered more protection.

His senses were on high alert. He was only wearing a sweat-soaked t-shirt and even in the heat he regretted it. A jacket wasn't really armour, but it gave the illusion of protection. As it was, the knife stuck out in the back of his belt, and the holy water flask bulged his back pocket. He checked that the sawed-off was loaded and picked up the pace.

He kept close to the buildings, moving from door to door and keeping away from the open as much as possible. He didn't want to call Dean on the phone in case the ringtone gave his brother's position away, so he moved forward silently, hoping Dean hadn't gone inside yet.

Crossing the street at the corner, he ran to the front doors of Movie World and plastered himself to the wall next to them. He peaked in through the dirty glass, but couldn't see much of anything. The old popcorn machine was empty, and the doors to the theatre itself were closed.

Sam could hear something, though. A whimpering? At first he thought it might be a wounded animal, but he slowly realised it was a person. Someone was alive in there. The demons were playing.

He considered his options. If Dean had reached Movie World, or found someone else in hiding who had told him about it, he had likely taken the back door. The only question was, did the demons know they were there? Approaching a town like this unnoticed was virtually impossible- you could hear and see the Impala coming miles away. But if they had been playing inside this place, maybe...

Sam freed the bag from his back and got out his supplies. He drew demon traps at both of the double glass doors on either side of the ticket booth. He made them big, enough to hold several demons in each. The white paint wasn't that visible in the grey pavement, so maybe they would get lucky.

He stuffed the canister back in the bag, shouldered it and rose, turning to go round back, but instead he walked right into a hand that seized his throat. He dropped everything immediately.

Before he could even gasp for breath the hand clutched so hard he couldn't breathe, he struggled to find purchase against the hand, and when that didn't work he grabbed the arm attached to it.

'There you are,' the demons said. It was a man, about forty with most of his hair gone and wrinkled from years in the sun. He wore overalls and had a name tag that said "Steve", but Steve wasn't home right now. 'We wondered where you'd got to.'

Sam thankfully still had his feet on the ground as the meat suit wasn't tall enough to lift him by the throat. He kicked out hard, catching the demon right in the stomach and sending him flying into the ticket booth wall. The force of the kick sent Sam off balance too, and he landed hard on his ass.

He gasped for air as he reached for the shot-gun with one hand and the knife in his belt with the other. The demon growled when he saw the shot-gun and charged him. Sam lifted the gun- the demon grabbed the short barrel and pulled hard, expecting resistance, but Sam gave none. The demon's arms flew over its head with the excess force and Sam's other hand shot out, knife already poised, and stabbed the demon right in the gut, all the way down to the hilt.

The demon froze in surprise and stared down stupidly at the knife lodged deep in its stomach. Sam hurried to his feet.

'Are you stup-' Realisation dawned as the demon realised the wound was effecting it. Sam pulled it out and the demon dropped the gun, but it was too slow now. Its clumsy hands reached for Sam's face as the hunter drove the knife through the demon's throat to finish it off, and prevent it from calling for help. Blood rushed out and the demon gasped soundlessly, clawing at Sam's face, but his arms were just an inch too short. Sam saw the flickering lights that meant it was dying and pulled the knife out, letting the body drop to the ground. Its head made an ugly slapping sound as the bloody side hit the pavement, like a fish on a ship deck.

Sam stared at it for a moment, wondering if the old mechanic had been awake for that last part. Then he looked at the knife still his hands, blood everywhere. He looked at the doors, still showing nothing but an empty lobby. He wiped at his face with his clean arm, but it came away still clean so he hoped he didn't have any on his face.

The blood slowly dripped from the knife, hitting the pavement. Sam noticed the sound and stared.

It was the first time they had fought demons since Eric's disappearance.

There were four to nine left. No chance, right? No hope. Eric wasn't there. He wouldn't be sprinting in at the last moment, a blur of movement so fast even the demons started to hesitate. And where was Dean? Already caught? Already dead?

'Sammy.' The voice was a barely audible hiss from across the street. When Sam looked up he realised he had the knife halfway to his mouth, and for a frozen moment he was scared shitless of his own actions. He hastily wiped as much blood as he could on the dead demon and got his belongings together before sprinting across the street to Dean, who was hiding just round the corner of what had once been a grocery store.

'Dude, you okay?' Dean asked, eyeing the still bloody knife and right hand. Another reason to wear a jacket, you had more places to wipe.

'Fine.'

'You find out where the party is too?' Sam nodded, leaning against the wall, out of sight from Movie World. Dean surveyed the front doors for a moment before turning to face Sam fully.

'An old lady told me to get out of town,' Sam said.

'Found an old bomb shelter under the gas station,' Dean supplied, 'with an old dude screaming "I told you so."'

'Demons or nukes,' Sam snorted bitterly, 'doesn't make a difference when the world's ending.'

'Not yet,' Dean growled, glancing back round the corner to make sure no one had come out yet. 'I ganked a demon too, just when I came out.'

'How'd you manage that?'

'Get this, the guy had a demon trap painted on the ceiling in the gas station. I kicked the sucker through the door, it landed right in the middle of it, and I exorcised it.'

'Someone was giving them pointers,' Sam surmised. 'Maybe the old lady. She had a psychic vibe to her.'

'Whoever it was, it saved my ass,' Dean admitted. 'So, we're two down, three or eight to go depending on how lucky we are...' Dean's eyebrows rose as he contemplated the odds. 'Doesn't look good.'

'They could be anywhere,' Sam pointed out on top of everything else, making Dean sigh. 'The one I ganked was looking for us.'

'Probably saw us coming a mile off,' Dean hit the wall in frustration, 'why did we do this?'

'Cause there's no other way into town,' Sam said, 'we couldn't have sneaked in if we tried.' Dean nodded reluctantly and glanced back again. He was making Sam nervous, but he knew they had to keep watch.

'You finished those demon traps?' he asked.

'Yeah, both doors are covered.'

'Awesome, let's head round back and do one there, then sneak in and scope out the situation. If we're lucky, we can have ourselves a demon hunting party.'

'Both in back, or?'

'Your pick,' Dean graciously offered. Sam sighed and looked past Dean to the entrance.

'I'll take the front,' he said, handing over the bag with paint and salt. Dean took it and headed round the building so he could cross the street further down the road. Sam decided he might as well cross here. If they were inside they weren't going to see him approach, and if they were outside, they weren't getting in. He hoped Dean managed the demon trap before one of them found him.

He passed the slain demon with a mild grimace of disgust, making sure that it wouldn't bleed all over the demon trap. He pushed the door and it swung in without much noise. Inside, he could hear the whimpering noise much clearer.

He quickly decided against just going into the theatre itself and found a door marked "Employees Only." He mounted the stairs to the projectionist's room.

At the top of the stairs he found a door, and opened it just a crack. The room appeared empty so he slipped inside. It was filled with around a dozen big canisters of film, and both big projectors were open as if someone was just about to put in a new film to show. Sam approached the nearest one and crouched down so he could very carefully look through the opening for the projector.

He could see the theatre, but the canvas the projector should be aimed at was gone; ripped down and pushed down into the front row. The stage was fully exposed, and what it held made Sam's stomach roll.

Several people were strung up on ropes that were probably once used to haul set pieces or sway the occasional cute angel at nativity plays. Now they held people in tatters, some upside down, others by the arms, one by his throat. Around six in total, all half-dressed and bloody, a few with their insides flowing out. A couple of them were alive, hence the whimpering. Another couple of bodies lay deceased on the stage itself, in different stages of mutilation.

In the corner of the stage lay several pillows and big draperies bunched together, also probably once used for a community theatre production. The pile held two occupants, heavily engaged in kissing as though the scene in front of them didn't concern them. Sam suspected they might be demons. He had noticed demons tended to like sex. He doubted they got much of it in hell.

Several heads were sticking up in the first few rows. At first he thought they were more demons, but the thought of so many of them sitting quietly was frankly impossible. He realised they had to be people. Dead people. Discarded one after the other as the game continued. Propped up as a sort of sick pantomime of an audience.

He really wanted to puke at that moment.

A door banged somewhere, rousing the two kissing demons: A young girl, wearing a very lovely summer dress, and a young male wearing what looked like a store uniform. They looked off stage right, and Sam wished he could see, but he was too high up.

'Amy?' the female demon called. Sam couldn't remember having read of a demon named Amy, but there were probably enough in hell to fill the whole world. A yell was heard - it might have been Dean, Sam feared- and then a gun went off. Sam knew the sound of that gun. There was a strange silence as the two demons stared at in the direction of the sound, and then at each other. They suddenly sprung into action, but only go as far as on their feet before they heard a scream, a demon's scream; the kind they make when they're being exorcised. Go Dean, Sam thought with relief. His brother was one badass hunter.

'You go check,' the female demon told the other. He appeared to weigh his options for a moment before striding purposefully towards stage left. Sam decided he might as well make his move and hurried back the way he came.

He managed to open the door to the theatre without making much noise. He stuck his head in and saw the female demon standing on the stage, looking off in the direction where her mate had gone. Sam slipped inside as silently as possible, crouching down and moving quickly down the aisle. When he got as far as he dared, he slipped into one of the rows next to a dead guy and slumped as best he could in his seat, slipping the shotgun into the mess of a jacket the dead guy was wearing, while keeping the knife for himself. The whimpering on stage kept a steady pitch, so Sam hoped they hadn't noticed him.

He was just in time to play dead before he heard the sounds of more fighting.

'Look what I found!' the male demon's voice was filled with delight, and Sam opened his eyes just the tiniest of slits. Dean came tumbling onto the stage, gliding several feet across towards the girl, who looked down at him curiously.

'You're the one with the car,' she said. Dean, on his back with a bloody face - though Sam couldn't say from what wound - stared up at her balefully.

'He's a hunter,' the other demon said, coming onstage with a smirk on his face.

'Even better,' she said, grinning. 'Fresh meat and a hunter too, perfect.' She drew out her "r" like a purring cat, crouching down by Dean and reaching out to stroke his cheek. He flinched at her touch.

'I told you no one visits this town,' the male demon said. 'That's why she gave it to us.' He -the meat suit- was really just a boy, probably barely seventeen. 'We should have all gone to check the second we heard him roll into town, and now Amy's been sent back downstairs, and who knows what's happened to the others.' She spared him a bored glance.

'I'm sure they're around. One hunter is hardly enough to kill three of us.' She tilted her head to one side, eyes on Dean. 'What's your name, little hunter?'

Sam didn't hear what Dean muttered, but the girl was disappointed. She stood, going over to one of the hanging bodies, one of the dead ones. 'Let's string him up. I'm bored with these townsfolk.'

'There's more,' the other demon said. 'He's sprayed a demon's trap at the backdoor.'

'Check the entrance,' she ordered and he hurried down the stage steps and up the aisle, right past Sam, who remained dead to the world. The girl started pulling the dead body down. It hit the floor with a squishy thud. Sam thought he could see movement from Dean, but wasn't sure. He hoped his brother was watching the girl, waiting for the right moment. The door to the theatre banged open.

'He's done the front too!' the boy cried.

'You little shit,' the demon bitch said, dropping the rope and advancing on Dean. 'You'll be washing those off.' The boy was coming down the aisle, and just as he passed Sam, both brothers reacted.

Sam rose from his seat as fast as he could, knife out, but the demon was just quick enough to block with his arm. The knife cut in deep, though, and the demon screamed in pain and surprise. The sound was drowned out, however, by the screaming from the girl demon.

Dean had whipped out his holy water flask just as she had reached for him, and she was now clawing at her face, blinded momentarily by the sting of holy water.

The demon Sam was battling grabbed Sam's knife-wielding arm and twisted it, only just shy of breaking it. Sam spun with the twist as much as he could to prevent himself from dropping the knife. He punched at the demon, but it was too strong. It grabbed his jaw, nails digging into his cheeks, and brought Sam's face close to his own, leaving Sam in a very painful position.

'We thought we'd have to wait until the Apocalypse before we got to play with the likes of you,' it hissed.

The other demon's screams reached a new height and distracted the one holding Sam enough to look up. Dean was sitting on her, pouring holy water in her mouth and muttering an exorcism. The boy demon growled. Sam gritted his teeth and moved.

He twisted out of the hold and rammed the demon with as much force as he could. They hit the floor hard, Sam rolling to the right so he could grab the knife with his left hand. His right arm was dislocated and would be useless. The demon raised his hand, probably to try and do the telekinesis trick, but Sam reared up on his knees and stabbed it just in time, right in the chest.

Dean came flying into the rows, landing on one of the dead audience members.

Sam got to his feet, turning to face the girl demon. She stood on stage, face red from her own clawing as much as the holy water, and looked furious.

Dean was scrambling out of the row and Sam put the knife between his teeth long enough to grab the shot-gun from its hiding place. He threw it as his brother, who caught it gratefully.

They ended up one in each aisle, weapons at the ready, waiting to see what she would try. Was she powerful enough to do telekinesis? Sam doubted it.

'We swore we would wait here, like nice little demons,' she told them. She sounded almost sad or frustrated like a kid who hadn't gotten a birthday cake. 'She said we could have this town to play until she called us. Why did you have to ruin it!' With that she opened her mouth and spewed herself out of the meat suit. The black smoke rose up, probably to find an air-duct to escape through.

Sam sighed, his shoulder smarting, and looked over at Dean. They were surrounded by dead people, and both of them wore expressions suitable for the occasion. Dean had a few scratches and a bloody nose.

A whimpering caught their attention.

They both rushed the stage.

In the end none of the people in Movie World made it. There was too much damage done, and too far to the nearest hospital.

Sam and Dean made the rounds, checking for any remaining demons, and when they found none they went knocking on doors to see how many people had managed to hide. About a dozen people had, and they all left town together, none of them even going inside Movie World to check for loved ones. It was as if they had just been waiting for permission to leave. They looked as zombie-like as Sam felt. Only the old woman who had warned Sam came up to the boys, both leaning against the Impala and watching as the townsfolk got a couple of pick-up trucks ready for the journey.

'Thank you,' she said and patted Sam's hand. Nothing more was said. The brothers watched the pick-up trucks grow smaller and move closer to the horizon. The sky was brilliant with reds as the sun set. Finally, they got in the car and drove back out of town the way they had come.

They only stopped when they were back on the highway so Dean could reset Sam's shoulder, and then they kept going, east and north, into the night and towards the cold.

XXX

'So, that was awful.'

Dean's first words came out of the blue one day later and one state across on the map. 'Looks like Lilith is preparing her army.'

'Yeah,' Sam replied dully. He was stuck in the passenger seat, even though he felt like driving, because of his shoulder.

'She's giving them fun stuff to do while they wait,' Dean said, but Sam couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or just disgusted. He felt Dean was sending him glances every so often, so obviously he was going to nag again, only it didn't feel like it usually did. He felt tense, and that made Sam's shoulder ache. What was his brother up to? He decided to ignore it. The vegetation was a nice change, so he stared as it.

'You did good back there,' Dean commented, just this side of condecending. Sam sent him a look, which Dean convieniently missed by staring at the road ahead.

'Thanks,' Sam decided to mutter, just this side of sarcastic. For one sharp moment he wished things could be as they had been. There had been a time when they would drag things out of each other whenever they had issues, but everything was different. They both had secrets they didn't want exposed, and even if Eric was gone, somewhere, it was like he was still sitting right between them.

'You got that demon outside Movie World good,' Dean continued, far too casual to be casual. Sam's stomach dropped.

'Yeah, thanks,' he said, knowing he sounded way too uncomfortable, but failing to hide his guilt. He hadn't even considered- hell, he hadn't even been aware of what he was doing himself.

'What were you doing right after you killed him?' Dean asked, voice low and inscrutable, eyes on the road.

'I- I'm not sure what you're asking,' Sam said. 'You showed up right after, so I ran to you. You were there.' Dean looked at him with that sideways glance of his. Sam had always wished he knew that trick: Dean somehow managed to look Sam straight in the eye, yet he had barely turned his head. That sideways glance had pulled many a confession from Sam in his younger years. It was less effective now, but it still creeped him out.

'You were holding the knife, Sam,' Dean explained slowly, 'and you were bringing it to your lips.'

'What?' Sam huffed, sounding surprised. 'I- that's- That's crazy.'

'Is it?' Dean asked.

'Yes, why, you think I'm really a vampire?' Sam challenged. 'Eric somehow managed to change me without you noticing?'

'No,' Dean shook his head. 'It's not human blood you're after.'

'What?'

'At the house where the vampires were working with the demons,' Dean reminded him, 'you got demon blood on your face and practically freaked out.'

'I didn't.' Sam's voice was too quiet to stop Dean.

'Eric had to pull your back together,' Dean was on a roll now. 'You've been telling me over and over how Eric saved you from Ruby, got you to see how she was manipulating you, but it was more than that, wasn't it?'

'No.' Sam shook his head when Dean glanced at him. His brother pulled the car sharply to the side of the road and stopped. Sam knew it was all going to blow up. Dean parked and turned in the seat to face him. His eyes were hard, and Sam knew he would see disappointment if he looked in deeply them.

'Just tell me the truth,' Dean ordered. Sam fidgeted in his seat, palms sweaty. He swallowed several times. Finally, he forced the words between his teeth, the only ones that would come.

'I messed up.'

'You messed up?' Dean repeated, his voice barely staying on the calm side.

'You were gone, Dean,' Sam tried desperately. 'I hadn't seen Eric in weeks. I was all alone and Ruby-' Dean's sudden departure from the car cut Sam off. He hastily followed. Dean walked several yards down the road, though Sam decided to stop by the front of the car. He watched as his brother took several deep breaths, hands on his hips as if he was about to bend over and hurl.

'I thought it would make me strong,' Sam tried. 'Ruby convinced me I needed it to kill Lilith.' Dean was facing away from him, but he could see the shake of the head, the hard set of the shoulders; all signs Dean was too angry to respond. His head came up, as if he was looking at the nice clouds passing by overhead.

'So you decided to drink demon blood.' He turned slowly and walked with measured steps towards the car. 'That was logical to you?'

'Yes,' Sam said, the barest stings of anger flashing in his eyes. 'Yes, goddammit, Dean. I thought Ruby wanted Lilith dead too, I believed her, and I listened to her advice.'

'So when Eric showed up and ganked her, you just stopped drinking?'

'He showed up, threw me out of the motel room and exorcised Ruby,' Sam explained, wanting the whole story straight. 'I was pissed, like I told you, and he disappeared. A week later I was... I was feeling withdrawal symptoms.'

'You were jonseing for another hit of demon blood,' Dean surmised. Sam clenched his fists, jaw working.

'Eric helped me detox. He did everything, held my hair while I was sick, fed me when I could eat again. I don't even know how long it took. I was hallucinating half the time. When I came back, I realised my mistake.'

'But you still want it,' Dean's words cut into him. 'You almost licked the damn knife!'

'But I didn't!' Sam insisted. 'Look, Eric explained I'll always be more susceptible to the blood because of what Yellow Eyes did to me. The blood has always been in me, but I can fight it. It's just been hard without him here to remind me.'

'You need your vampire to keep off demon blood,' Dean spat, 'well, that's healthy.'

'Fuck you, Dean,' Sam spat right back. 'It's not like you're the picture of mental health here.' Sam spread his hands wide to illustrate what a fucked-up pair they really made. 'You're having nightmares about hell practically every time you close your eyes. Why don't you tell me what happened down there and then you can ask me out about my addiction.'

'Addiction? You make it sound like you drank too much whiskey after work!' They were full on shouting now, the empty road and trees their only witnesses.

'You have no idea how much of an addiction it is.' Sam found himself yelling his confession as if it was a string of insults. 'I want it every time I look at a demon, when I see their eyes, when I see the blood,' Sam gasped the words out. 'Because of how it made me feel, like I could do anything, save everyone. But I won't because I know it's just a trick. I'm strong enough without it,' Sam finally let go of his anger and his voice lowered along with it. 'Eric taught me that.'

Dean watched Sam through his eyelashes during the whole little speech. Sam fell silent and stared back, feeling hopeless. He wished he knew if any of that had gotten through. Even if it hadn't, it had been cathartic to say. Dean's eyes lowered to the road.

'You love him,' he said quietly.

'You don't need to tell me how fucked up it is to love a vampire,' Sam pointed out. 'Believe me I've already gone through all the agonising on my own.'

'What is it with you and supernatural creatures?' Dean asked, only half serious, eyes still downcast. Sam decided to ignore the question, and it appeared it hadn't been a serious one when Dean continued. 'I'm sorry he's gone.'

'He's not,' Sam bit out. Dean ignored him this time. He gave a long sigh.

'I don't know how to handle this.' Before Sam could ask for specifics, Dean gestured between them. 'You. The blood. Eric.' Sam didn't know what to say to that. He was terrified Dean would leave him, right there by the side of the road. It was a distinct possibility in Sam's mind. A calm Dean could be an unpredictable Dean.

'I won't drink it,' Sam insisted. 'Ever again.'

'He was there, when I wasn't.' Dean seemed almost to be talking to himself. Sam frowned. 'I was-' Dean shook his head at the road. 'I was in hell, doing something much worse.'

'What are you talking about?' Sam had seen his brother cry before, but it always scared him, and seeing a tear fall from Dean's eye made him distinctly uncomfortable. Was Dean still mad at him? Would he welcome comfort? Probably not, demon blood issues or not. Sam was at a loss, but at least they were talking, about everything.

Maybe they could get past their secrets.

Then Dean told him about hell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes**: Hello all! I hope you haven't forgotten about this story. I sure haven't! I've been working back and forth between this one and God's Permission to get the plots just right. I've had so many discussions with myself over how this is going to work out. Endings are always a bitch to write, in my opinion. Luckily, I'm not there yet! Also, fair warning, we are venturing very far from canon!

**Note 2**: Sorry for any mistakes, please feel free to point them out. Typos are like sand, they get in everywhere.

-:-

_Chapter 2: Good Times _

_'I tortured people in hell, and I enjoyed it.'_

Sam honestly didn't know what to think. He'd done things he was ashamed of, things normal people would find reprehensible, but he couldn't relate to his brother's story. He tried to understand, and he didn't blame Dean. Forty years in hell- it was truly incomprehensible to him.

That didn't stop him from catching himself looking at Dean with a new look.

After Dean's confessions, with all their secrets laid out between them, there was nothing more to say. They went a week drifting from town to town looking for cases that turned out to be explainable phenomena or human villains. Sam dreamt about Eric, Dean's nightmares seemed to increase for a while.

If the Winchesters were to have a creed, a motto, it would be "family first", but it wouldn't really be true. It would be words to say, to swear allegiance to, but not true in the sense that it's what the Winchesters did.

Dad chose the demon over them. He didn't talk to them for almost a year, because he was selfish. Dean was selfish too when he made the deal. Sam was selfish when he drank Ruby's blood despite swearing to Dean he wouldn't get help from Ruby anymore after he was gone.

Their selfishness made them sacrifice themselves, for the greater good and for each other. A paradox, perhaps, but truer than anything else in their lives, Sam thought.

Their motto should be: "It's easier to die fighting than to talk about it."

It's easier to go to hell than let your brother die.

It's easier to drink blood than admit you feel weak.

It was easier for them to go their separate ways, than to admit their relationship was screwed up beyond repair.

After a week of barely talking, things had to arrive at some sort of precipice. Naturally, a demon was involved. They were having dinner in a diner by the side of the road going north to Bobby's. They were only a few hours off, but Dean had pulled over after too many stomach rumbles from Sam.

They place only had two other costumers when they arrived, and one of them left shortly after. The waitress was a middle-aged fake-blond with a uniform that looked like it belonged in a costume store. Sam didn't pay her any mind, though, just focused on his coffee, praying the food would come quickly. It wasn't until the other patron left them all alone that he started listening.

There wasn't any noise. Not a sound.

He looked over the counter and leaned forward a little across the table to glimpse through the opening to the kitchen. Dean, sitting across from him in the booth, leaned backwards at the same time to look as well. They both jumped slightly when the door to the kitchen swung open and the waitress came through. She wasn't bringing their food.

Her walk was different as well - a small thing to notice, but important - it wasn't the walk of a middle-aged woman old before her time. She swaggered over to them, hands on her hips, smirking devilishly.

'I've been waiting for you Winchesters to roll by here on your way to ol' Bobby's for ages,' she told them. Sam was as tense as he could be, but he hesitated to reach for the knife in his breast pocket. 'Didn't know you'd actually be stopping here.'

'Do we know you?' Dean asked.

'No, but I sure know you two,' she said, then she frowned, almost pouted and put on an air of disappointment. 'But where's the third wheel? He's the one I want.' Sam automatically exchanged a glance with Dean, it was instinct, and they both silently agreed Dean would answer. It took less than a second.

'You mean Bobby?' Dean asked.

'You know, playing dumb really suits you, Dean,' she told him snarkily. Dean's jaw worked, but he let the insult slide off. 'I meant the vampire.'

'Why do you want him?' Sam asked.

'He got away,' she explained, 'we want him back.' Sam tried to tell his heart not to run off on him. He forced himself to unclench his fist when his nails threatened to break the skin of his palm.

'Well, you can't have him,' he managed to bite out.

'Fine, then I'll settle for you two. I should have a reward for being stationed in this boring dump for so long.' She was quick on the draw, lashing out at Sam's throat quick as a cat, but Sam was quicker and either she didn't know about the knife, or she hadn't anticipated Sam carrying it around all the time. Together, the two hunters made quick work of her.

The body of the waitress ended up on their table, a big red stain on her uniform. Sam swore she saw her blink and try to speak, but his fingers didn't register a pulse and the wound was far too deep anyway. Dean had immediately gone to check out the kitchen. He returned just as Sam closed her eyes.

'The cook's dead,' he said. 'Must have killed him the second she made us.'

'You think the demons working with the vampires are also working for Lilith?' Sam asked.

'I don't know.'

'Eric got away,' Sam said, staring at the bloody waitress, willing her to wake up and tell him more. Dean came to stand beside him. Sam felt hollow, like he had betrayed Eric by not being even more adamant about his survival.

'She could be lying.'

'Why would she lie about that?'

'Because demons love to fuck with us,' Dean sighed. He wiped at his face, probably to check for blood. Sam did the same, using his right hand still holding the knife. It was covered in blood. Sam had planned to use the back of his hand to wipe at his jaw when Dean's hand shot out and grabbed it. Their eyes met. Sam wrenched his hand away.

'Jesus Christ, Dean,' he muttered, stalking away towards the exit. He needed air. He wiped the knife on his jeans uncaringly and put the knife back in its hiding spot. Dean was hot on his heels as he approached the car.

'Sam, wait,' Dean grabbed his shoulder. Sam spun around, knocking the hand away.

'I wasn't going to drink it!'

'I know.'

'Do you?'

Dean didn't answer, and that was more than enough for Sam. He walked around the car and got in. They didn't speak, but they didn't drive to Bobby's either.

XXX

'Maybe you shouldn't be hunting.'

'I'm going to find Eric.'

'Let's just take a break from each other, cool off.'

And then there were words they didn't say.

_I can't look at you._

_I don't believe you._

_I don't trust you._

_You're practically a demon._

_You tortured people in hell._

_You drank their blood. _

Sam didn't know who said what, or left what unspoken. He was going to find Eric, or at least find out what happened to him. He had to know. It was a good reason to leave, he felt.

If that had been the only reason, he could have understood his brother. Of course Dean didn't want to put hunting on hold to find one man missing in action. It was the Apocalypse, and even Sam felt guilty for leaving. But it wasn't just that. They needed time away.

They needed to fucking stick together, Dean thought, but that was impossible. Sam wanted to find Eric, and Dean couldn't find it in him to stop his little brother.

Sam needed Eric. It was as simple as that. He didn't need Dean, not right now. Maybe when Sam had finally accepted that Eric was probably dead and buried, or burned, then he'd come back and Dean could put his little brother back together like when after Jessica died. He didn't know much about that kind of heartache, but he had gone through it with Sam before, and they would get through it again.

He knew the looks Sam sent him before he walked away. He could read them easily enough.

Sam thought he didn't trust him. He thought he hated him for drinking the blood, but he didn't. How could he? Sam had gotten an addiction, been saved, overcome it, and fallen in love. In just four months. All while Dean wasn't there. Technically, it was all his fault.

And he could see other looks too. The ones that said "how could you?" He would never be able to explain, because you couldn't explain hell. He couldn't explain the pleasure in torture to anyone who hadn't been at that level of pain.

So they parted, and maybe it was good. Maybe it would save them in the end.

XXX

Some places you always know you will return to, some you don't, some you hope for -tossing a coin in a fountain as if it will influence your future travel plans- and some you hope with all your heart you'll never seen again.

Fangtasia wasn't any of those places. It was a dead end, a last stop on a hopeless case, but Sam was determined to reach every end. The car he had stolen a handful of states ago was in bad shape, but he prayed she'd last in and out of the vamp-county.

He hadn't spoken to Dean in almost two weeks. It felt like two months. He'd gone back to the scene of the crime, retraced his first attempt at finding Eric, and then he had admitted to himself he only had one place left to check. Usually, he liked the long road, but this time it felt like America was getting bigger just to spite him.

He stopped by Merlotte's in Bonstemps since it was still light out. The place seemed much as it had the last time he had been there. There was a very pretty blond girl tending tables, and a young redhead playing hostess. There were a fair few locals in to have dinner. The very pale redhead approached and asked if he wanted a table.

Sam stared at her, all his muscles tensing. Maybe it was hypocritical, but Sam's hunter instincts still reacted at the sight of a vampire, even though she appeared to just be a waitress. It sure was a vamp-friendly town this Bonstemps.

'Sir?' she prompted when his silence became prolonged. His brow furrowed in slight embarrassment at the "Sir"; surely he wasn't that much older than her? Hell, she could be older than him- but no, she didn't _feel_ old, like Eric.

'Sure,' he answered and she led him to an empty booth and lay a menu in front of him. He looked up at her, noting her friendly smile.

'You're a vampire,' he said, softly so that only she could hear. Her smile dropped slowly off her face. 'I don't mean anything by it. I just wondered if you knew the place called Fangtasia?'

'Oh, I don't go there,' she stuttered, shaking her head, but Sam could tell she had been there, in the same way teenagers snuck out to rave parties. Jesus, she really was a fledgling.

'Do you know the owner?' Sam asked casually.

'Pam? Sure,' she said.

'I meant the previous owner,' Sam corrected. She got an odd look on her face.

'Eric,' she said softly. 'He's gone.'

'Gone?'

'He's been missing for over six months, I think...' she trailed off as she thought back, then suddenly glanced at him suspiciously.

'Please, I'm a friend,' Sam told her in his most sincere voice. She threw a cautionary glance over her shoulder and leaned down closer.

'They say the Authority took him, for killing another vampire, the king-'

'Of Mississippi,' Sam finished.

'You know?' she asked sharply.

'I know some,' he admitted. 'But not enough.' He rose abruptly. 'Thanks,' he told her before pushing his way past and making his way outside into the fresh air. He stood for a moment and breathed. He had forgotten about the vampire organization. What if Eric had escaped the demons only to get caught by his own kind?

He had to ask Pam, just to be sure.

Fangtasia looked exactly the same; the same teenage fangbangers outside, desperate to get in, and definitely the same bouncer, looking Sam over with a hungry gaze. Inside the crowd seemed thinner, however, and there was a depressed or nervous air that lay over the heads of the patrons, as if the music was just a few decibels lower or the lights not quite as dim- fewer corners to hide in -though Sam couldn't really tell.

Was it just him, or was there a distinct lack of actual vampires in the place? There were a couple of young ones holding a small court in a corner, showing off to their adoring fangbanger fans.

The raised platform was empty; the thrown-like chair was gone. Sam had almost expected Eric to be sitting right where he had been that first night, long legs stretched out in front of him, eyes intense and all-seeing even in the dark club. But there was nothing there, and no one approached it either, except Sam.

He didn't step up on it, just stared at the empty space for a long while, until a presence was felt at his side.

'Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't suck you dry right here,' a female purred in his ear. Sam didn't move; he had expected to be made as a hunter the second he entered.

'I'm a friend of Eric's,' he told her.

'I know who you are,' she hissed, causing Sam to look at her. So this was Pam. She seemed a bit frazzled for a vampire, like she was over-working herself, but she was still beautiful, and no fledgling. Sam suppressed his shiver at her closeness. Her eyes were full of accusation. 'You're the reason for everything,' she spat at him.

'What are you talking about?'

She seemed to hesitate, biting back an angry retort before pulling herself together and presenting him with a disdainful look.

'Come with me.' She spun on her very long heel and marched away, plowing a path instantly through the observing onlookers. Sam followed obediently, curiosity and caution warring within him.

The office she guided him to was strangely normal. Sam hadn't quite accepted that the vampires actually ran a legitimate business, but the file cabinets and work-covered desk confirmed it. It looked a bit jumbled, as if it had just been ransacked, but Sam suspected it had something to do with Pam's tiredness. She turned to face him, leaning back against the desk and folding her arms across her chest. She looked every bit the angry boss.

'Why did you have to drag Eric into all of it?' she demanded.

'Into what?'

'What do you think?' she snarked. 'Into your damn Apocalypse.'

'You- you know about that?'

'Every vampire older than a toddler knows about it. The whole system is collapsing, all thanks to you.'

'Me?'

'You and your kind,' she gave him such a look of contempt Sam started to feel really guilty. He knew he had been the cause of Eric losing everything, but he hadn't considered the wider ramifications, though surely she was exaggerating? 'I was never a fan of the Great Revelation, but it was better than the alternative.'

'Alternative?'

'But now the Authority is gone, and no one knows who they can trust,' she carried on as if she hadn't heard him. 'And there are demons and creatures everywhere, all out for blood, in the open. It won't be long before the whole world goes to hell- though not literally,' she added sarcastically. 'And it all started the night you came here, looking for your brother. I told Eric not to help you, two hunters out for his head, but no, you were different.' She pushed away from the desk and started pacing. 'It wasn't long before he was gone for days at a time, and then the Authority came looking, accusing him of working with demons!'

'Pam, please,' Sam tried to cut in, but once again she barreled over him.

'As if Eric would ever work with hell-spawn, the idea is ludicrous! But he didn't come back after that...' she finally ran out of steam, her back to him, head down.

'Pam, please,' Sam tried again, 'I need to find him. He's gone missing. He was captured, by demons, but I know he escaped. Has he tried to contact you?'

She was silent for a long moment. What wasn't she telling him? The stiff back told him nothing. Then a voice came drifting through from the open door to Sam's left, leading presumably to further storage or perhaps the basement.

'You lied.' Both of them spun towards the door. Only Sam gasped in surprise.

'Eric.'

The vampire was leaning heavily against the doorframe, skin sickly pale even for a vampire, with dark circles under his eyes, which were very bloodshot. He was wearing a dirty grey t-shirt and jeans, and staring quite fixedly at Pam, who raised her chin defiantly.

'I did what I had to do,' she declared. 'You're not fit to take care of yourself.'

Sam wanted to run to Eric, to embrace him, to feed him even, but he felt confused over the lack of acknowledgement.

'I told you to find Sam Winchester, and here he is, but not by your invitation.'

'Han är inte bra för dig,' she said insistently in Swedish. Sam suspected she was saying something nasty about him. 'Ser du inte? Allt är hans fel!'

'I did not ask your opinion on him,' Eric growled low, showing some strength for the first time. Pam subsided, looked away and then walked out back into the club. Finally, Eric turned his eyes to Sam.

'Sam,' he said, sounding absolutely exhausted. He reached out and Sam reacted immediately, walking straight into the vampire's embrace. He squeezed his eyes shut at the weak hug he received. The important thing, he told himself, was that Eric was alive and in his arms. He grabbed the vampire's shoulder and held him at arm's length to get a look at him. Eric gave a weak smile at Sam's scrutiny.

'Not as handsome as you remember?' he asked.

'Are you all right?' Sam asked.

'As well as can be expected,' Eric sighed. 'I'm a bit tired still, but I'm getting stronger every day. I would have called, but I was out of it for some time. I only made it back here through sheer instinct, I think.'

'You're alive, that's all that matters,' Sam said.

'Oh, they had no intention of killing me,' Eric said with a bitter smile. Sam frowned, but no more information was forthcoming. He closed the distance between them and gave Eric a slightly desperate kiss, which was returned. When they parted, Eric was leaning against Sam, clutching at him.

'It's all going to hell, Sam,' he whispered. The hunter swallowed nervously.

'You mean, more than usual?' he tried to lighten the mood.

'We have to kill Lilith,' Eric told him. He looked up at Sam with eyes that reminded the hunter instantly of his brother for a second. Eyes of a man who had seen hell, or something close to it. Sam wondered what a two thousand year old vampire had to see to get that look. 'Promise me, everything we do from now on goes to killing Lilith.'

'Okay,' Sam agreed at once, 'I promise.' Eric straightened and kissed Sam again, deeper than before. Sam felt out of place in the kiss, and in Eric's grip, weaker than usual. He didn't know what to make of it all. Eric's behaviour made him nervous. What had happened?

'I need blood,' Eric whispered when they parted. 'Real blood.'

'Then take it,' Sam was helpless to say anything else.

'No, no,' Eric shook his head, 'you need your strength. If we're going up against Lilith, you need all the strength you can get.' The vampire buried his face in Sam's neck, but didn't bite. Sam put his arms around his lover, and suppressed the urge to shiver.

tbc...

**Note to Swedish people:** sorry if I got something wrong. Norwegians prefer to speak Swedish and write Danish. (Translation: He's not good for you. Can't you see? It's all his fault!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes**: Yes, I am still alive. Want the whole sorry tale of how my master plan to finish this before summer crashed and burned? I'll give you a few highlights: I was brimming with inspiration before I went to England, and had planned to write lots, but then the events in Oslo and Utøya happened, and all inspiration vanished for quite some time. When things finally began going back to normal (though it's only now we're slowly beginning to move on in everyday conversation), I was in Northern Norway at a wedding and there wasn't much time to myself. Then school started and I've just finished my first week, which has felt like a month. I hope now to be able to write a bit every evening, even if it's just a few words. Here's a little snippit chapter to get my inspiration back. Hope you enjoy! Anyone still actually reading this is my hero.

_Chapter 3_

'Sam.'

The hunter turned, surprised to hear her calling him. He wasn't exactly her favourite mortal. She stood oddly sad looking, arms hanging at her sides instead of her usual pose with them on her hips or crossed across her chest. Sam glanced in the direction he had been going, towards his car, but Eric hadn't arrived yet. He turned back and walked over to her.

'Yeah?' he answered. She gave him a long stare, half suspicious, half emploring. Sam could hear the beat of music inside Fangtasia, and the cries of the protesters in front of it. He was glad they left by the back.

'Take care of him,' she said. Sam frowned.

'Of course,' he replied, sligthly suspicious. He couldn't quite believe she was really entrusting Eric's care into his hands - that was almost the same as giving him permission to be Eric's.

'I mean it,' she told him.

'Okay…' She looked off into the night, hesitating.

'He's not himself,' she said softly, as if it was the first time she had admitted it out loud.

'He's weak,' Sam pointed out, 'whatever the demons did to him, it took a lot out of him.'

'It's more than that,' she said, shaking her head. She looked him in the eye. 'If you think you know him, you're wrong. He's my Maker, I know him better than a child can know its parents, better than a lover, better than siblings-'

'Okay, I get it,' Sam half-grumbled. She fell silent, which was also very out of character. In the few days Sam had been there she had yelled at him ninety percent of the time, or growled low.

'Why does he want you to leave?' she asked him suddenly.

'He- he wants to be strong, to help me be strong,' Sam explained. He didn't want to go into details about killing Lilith. They didn't even have a plan yet, but Eric wanted to get back on the road, hunting and training, and perhaps find a way to kill her on their journey.

She was right, though, Eric hadn't been himself, but Sam understood how people changed after being in the care of demons for extended periods of time, so he would just allow Eric the time he needed to heal.

XXX

Zeppelin was blaring on the radio, but anyone looking at Dean's face would have thought he was driving in silence. The music was just noise to him, something to fill the Impala with.

'Dean.'

The wheels screeched as Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. He quickly righted his baby and steered her towards the side of the road. He stopped a bit more abruptly than he usually did before turning to his sudden passenger.

'Cas,' he bit out, 'could you not do that?' He sighed when all he received was a blank stare. 'You called over an hour ago, where have you been? What do you want?'

'Where is Sam?' Dean's face turned to stone.

'He's looking for Eric.' Cas looked away, pensive. 'What's going on?' Dean pressed, uneasy with the situation.

'I believe he may be in danger. You must find him and keep him close.'

'What kind of danger?' Dean sat up straighter in his seat.

'Perhaps danger is the wrong word…' Cas murmured.

'Then what?' Dean demanded.

'Can you call him? Ask him where he is?' Dean gritted his teeth to prevent himself from nagging and dug out his phone. He had Sam on speed dial and as he waited for Sam to pick up he watched Cas, whose face was intense, but incrutible. It was his usual look, basically.

Sam wasn't picking up. Finally, Dean gave up and closed his phone.

'He's not answering,' he whispered, mind racing through a million different types of horrible deaths his brother could have managed to get himself offed by. It would be Dean's fault too; he had known they shouldn't have split up.

'You have to find him,' Cas insisted.

'Just tell me why he's in danger,' Dean growled, eyes burning into the angel. Cas sighed.

'It's Lilith, she wants him dead.'

'A demon that wants us dead,' Dean deadpanned. 'That's not exactly a news flash.'

'She's afraid of Sam,' Cas explained. 'Of what he could, potentially, become.' Suddenly, Dean could read Cas' face perfectly. It wasn't death Sam should fear, it was himself.

'Sam's not going to do anything stupid,' Dean said, though he wasn't entirely sure he believed himself.

'You shouldn't have let him out of your sight,' Cas reprimanded.

'He needed to go after Eric,' Dean argued. 'What was I suppose to do?'

'Go with him.' Dean looked away.

'I couldn't,' he admitted. He heard the flutter of wings and knew the angel had left. He put the Impala into gear and spun up a cloud of dust as he raced away, hopefully towards his brother.

He tried calling, but Sam didn't pick up. He tried again, and again, and again. Finally, he went looking in the direction Sam most likely started looking.

XXX

'Not good enough Sam,' Eric told him calmly, eyes blank as he stared down at the large hunter underneath him. Sam panted, struggling instinctively against the hold Eric had on him.

'Let me up,' he gave in at last. Eric stepped away immediately, walking across the large abandoned warehouse to pick up a bottle of True Blood that stood on the table beside Sam's guns and knives. Sam sat up slowly, watching his vampire lover. He pushed away that uncomfortable feeling he had deep in his gut and wiped at the cut on his lip.

'If you want to kill Lilith,' Eric said, taking a large gulp of the True Blood, 'you need to be stronger, faster, more powerful.' Sam had heard the line a hundred times already in just a couple of weeks. Eric had become obsessed with training. They had been hunting too, mostly ghosts and creatures, but Sam knew Eric was constantly on the lookout for demons, even though they hadn't found any yet.

'You know I want to kill her,' Sam replied from the floor. 'I just think we need a plan first.' Eric turned, licking his very red lips and smiled. He put down the bottle and came forward. Sam wished he knew what the vampire was thinking.

'I know how to kill her,' Eric said, holding out his hand. Sam stared up at him, unmoving.

'How? Why haven't you told me?'

'You are not ready yet,' Eric explained as if to a child.

'And when will I be?' Sam asked, bitterness and sarcasm layering his voice. He gave an insincere look of interest. Eric returned it with a slightly condecending look.

'You'll know,' he replied. Sam huffed in frustration.

'And what makes you the expert?'

'I gained a unique perspective of the demons while in their captivity.' Sam stilled at this. He hadn't asked Eric about his time away, as Sam referred to it in his mind, but he knew it must have been awful. Eric had regained his strength now, but he still sometimes got these odd pained expressions, as if he was trying to hide the pain, but couldn't quite.

Sam took Eric's hand and was pulled to his feet. They ended up rather close, a deliberate move no doubt. Sam didn't hesitate this time and gave Eric the kiss he wanted. It quickly turned hard and devouring.

The rest of evening was scheduled. They barely took the time to pack up and get the stuff in the trunk of Sam's car before they were pushing each other into the motel room just half a mile down the road.

They hadn't had sex more than a couple of times since Eric's recovery, and Sam could already tell things were different. Eric let Sam on top more easily, yet somehow he was still harsher, more rough, as if he let Sam on top only because he thought that would please him, yet still he couldn't fight his animalistic nature.

Sam couldn't quite decide if he liked this or not. He never really analysed their activities until after the fact, and even then he was easily distracted.

They were down to their shorts now, with Sam pushing Eric down into the uncomfortable bed. He kissed his way down Eric's chest and up again, loving the smooth skin.

'Bite me,' Eric whispered just as Sam's lips skipped across the pale neck. The hunter didn't need telling twice and bit teasingly, though never hard enough to breach the skin.

Suddenly, Eric's body grew stiff and the flash of pain was visible on his face. It was gone by the time Sam raised his head to look, but he had felt the stiffness.

'You okay?' he asked.

'Fine, get back to work,' Eric growled back. Sam went back to his task, though Eric remained stiff for a few more seconds.

'Harder,' he urged when he relaxed. Sam kissed and bit. 'Harder.'

Any harder and he would breach the skin, with or without fangs.

'Harder,' Eric gasped. Sam stilled. 'Go on,' the vampire whispered. Sam raised his head again, staring down with confusion. Eric reached up and cupped the side of Sam's face with his left hand, while bringing his right had to his neck. 'You'll be strong,' he said. 'You'll end it all.'

'What are you talking about?' Sam's question came out in a hoarse breath.

'You're special,' Eric told him. 'Lilith fears you-'

'Ruby wanted me to drink-'

'Demon blood,' Eric cut in. His eyes seemed to draw Sam in, like they had that first time, only this time he was afraid in a different way. A more chilling way. 'The demons wanted to keep me from you, because they know you'll be strong with this. Drink.' Eric used his strong nails to cut a small wound in his neck. Blood trickled out. Sam stared at it, feeling the familiar thirst even though he knew he wasn't looking at demon blood.

Would it taste the same? Would it make him feel like Ruby's blood had? Invincible? But this was Eric's blood… surely, that would be even better? Because Sam knew Eric would never do anything to hurt him.

'Trust me,' Eric said.

'I do.' He had to. If he couldn't trust Eric, who was left? Certainly not himself.

Slowly, he lowered his head. When the smell of it hit his nostrills he knew he was gone. The thirst overwhelmed him. He licked a bold stripe across Eric's neck and the first taste was like an explosion of heat and pleasure. It was just like demon's blood, only it seemed to hit him even quicker- or perhaps that was just because he had been clean so long.

Sam lost himself in the blood, cradled in his lover's arms.

XXX

When Sam had drunk his fill, Eric pushed him away gently. Sam's eyes flashed, but he went willingly.

'Do you feel it?' Eric asked, eyes roarming over the angular face. Sam's eyes shone with supernatural colours, but they disappeared in the blink of an eye, literally.

'Yeah…' Sam sounded awed. He held up a hand in front of his face, staring at it as if he had never seen it before.

'Do you feel strong again?' Eric asked urgently. Very slowly, Sam shook his head, but he looked uncertain.

'It's not like before….'

'What do you mean?' Eric demanded. He grabbed Sam's chin to make the hunter look at him. 'Tell me.'

'It's different, I feel… weird… and sick.' Sam bolted from the bed, going over to the bathroom. He stopped just in front of the door, hands braced on the doorframe. 'No, it's-'

'What?' Eric asked, rising as well, but appearing hesitant to go over to the mortal.

'I need air,' Sam suddenly decided. He turned abruptly and went for his clothes, putting them on hastily.

'Where are you going?' Eric asked, grabbing a shoulder. Sam shrugged him off. 'Don't you feel strong?'

'Just give me a moment to think, all right?' Sam snapped.

'Hasn't it worked?' Eric pressed. Sam went for the door.

'I'll be back in a moment.' He slammed the door after him, leaving the vampire staring at no one. A phone rang, Eric's mobile. The vampire picked up his discarded jacket to get it out.

"D" said the caller id. He hit reject without hesitating.

Slowly, the vampire went to the small dressed with a mirror hanging above it. He looked at himself. The reflection stared back, with black eyes.

'Why won't it work?' he asked out loud.

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sam walked quickly, his long legs taking him across the parking lot and down the street to the warehouse where he and Eric had been training not moments before. He felt… agitated, like he had eaten something to upset him. What if that much vampire blood had done something to him? What if his own demon-infected blood didn't mix well with vampire blood?

He sped up, walking past the warehouse and across a large lot filled with rusty machinery and discarded metal scraps. He stopped by an empty container, leaning against it to breathe for a moment.

Warmth was spreading inside him. He could feel it in his veins, like before with Ruby only slower. He gasped as it reached his extremities. He felt… strong again, like with Ruby, only he still felt himself. The usual blurring he'd felt before, like being on a drug, wasn't there. It was as if his body had fought the blood and won.

He felt almost jittery with the strength. A sudden thought occurred to him.

He should call Dean. He needed to talk to him, right now. He had been reluctant to call, even when he'd found Eric, and since Dean hadn't called once since they'd split, Sam hadn't either.

He fished out his phone, shaking his head slightly to clear it. The display seemed a little blurry, but it became clear quickly.

'What are you doing?'

Sam jumped, swore, bumped into the container, swore again and spun around to Eric, who stood watching him with intense eyes.

'I… I'm gonna call Dean,' Sam said, looking down at his phone. Eric's hand came out and covered it.

'What would you tell him?' Eric asked softly. Sam stilled completely.

'I…'

'He'll know,' Eric told him sympathetically. 'He'll know the moment he hears your voice, filled with guilt. He will know and he will not understand.' Sam tried to find words, but there were none. Eric was  
>right. He put away his phone. 'How do you feel?'<p>

'Good,' Sam admitted, more surprised by the second as he felt his strength. 'Great, actually.'

'Good,' Eric agreed, his voice deep. 'We need to find a demon for you to practice your powers on.' He almost turned to go, but Sam stopped him.

'Whoa, wait, what? You mean my strength, right?'

'I mean your powers, the reason the Yellow Eyed Demon chose you.'

'No, no, I can't,' Sam shook his head, turning away. 'That's what Ruby wanted me to do-'

'With her blood, not mine,' Eric pointed out sharply. 'How else do you think you were going to kill Lilith? She's stronger than anything you've gone up against before.'

'But Ruby-'

'Ruby was making you her slave,' Eric explained. 'She used your desire to kill Lilith as the fuel to the fire, but the plan was still sound. She just never intended to let you follow through with it.'

'How do you know all this?'

'I told you,' Eric turned away and started walking, 'my time with the demons was good for something.' Sam reluctantly followed after a few moments. He didn't want to ask Eric about his time away, but a part of him missed the old Eric more than anything.

When they got back to the motel, Eric's phone rang. As usual, he picked it up and rejected the call. He did that a lot.

'Let's pack up,' Eric told him. Sam did as he was told.

XXX

'Goddammit, Sam,' Dean muttered when his call once again failed to go through. He looked across the street at Fangtasia. He didn't really want to go in at all, but he wasn't seeing a whole lot of other options. There was a crowd outside, and they weren't looking too friendly, for vampires that is. They had some pretty unoriginal signs and the chanting was already getting on Dean's nerves.

He got out of the Impala and slammed the door, walking cautiously towards the entrance. He wasn't even going to try sneaking past the crowd. Something about the look in his eyes must have told them not to mess with him, because the crowd parted just enough for him to pass through. He hadn't gotten halfway, however, before there were mutterings.

'Fangbanger.'

'Disgusting freak.'

Dean resisted the urge to tell them he was a hunter, and used to be the only thing standing between these people and getting sucked dry.

'You're going to hell, you know that?' Dean stopped short, knowing he should just move on, but his temper was already short with Sam going off the map. 'You're gonna burn forever,' the voice continued. Dean turned around slowly. The dude was wearing a sweater vest for fuck's sake. He was holding a sign, but Dean didn't care to read it. The man took one look at Dean and visibly swallowed. Dean decided the man wasn't worth it and left the crowd behind. The bouncer looked at Dean with a slight sneer. He was different from the one who had let the hunter in last time.

'We don't want your kind in here.'

'And what kind would that be?' Dean asked with a sarcastic smile.

'No hunters,' the big bad vamp told him.

'Ah, come on now, I've been in here before.'

'No hunters,' the vamp repeated loudly. Dean sighed, stepped up close even though the vamp was taller than him, and fixed him with his best "I'm sick of your crap"-stare.

'I need to talk to the vamp in charge,' Dean told him. 'So I can either go in there with my big ass knife and start cutting off heads till you manage to take me down, or you can go tell your boss that I'm waiting.'

The vamp took one last look at Dean before he opened the door, spoke to another vamp inside before exchanging places with him.

Dean sighed and glanced back at the crowd. They were looking at him like he was insane. They were the ones standing outside a vamp haunt waving insults on signs, and he was the crazy one?

The world really was coming to an end.

XXX

_An abandoned house, somewhere in the middle of_  
><em>Arkansas…<em>

Sam hit the wall hard. Even though it hurt like a bitch, he knew he took the hit easier than before, without his strength. He got up quicker too, and the demon noticed this. Its eyes turned black and it gave a hiss of anger. Sam raised his hand, the action coming back to him as familiar as riding a bike.

For a moment nothing happened. The demon stared at him with curiosity, as if it couldn't quite decide what Sam was trying to do. Sam felt panic grip him. He closed his eyes and summoned up all the strength he had, but it wasn't enough. He reached out to the closest weapon he could find- a sharp piece of wood on the old dusty floor. The demon was slowly coming to the realization that Sam was full of shit and grinned evilly. Just as it was about to charge, Sam launched himself forwards. His weight sent them both to the floor and he stabbed the makeshift stake straight through its neck. It didn't kill it, but it sure pissed it off.

It gargled blood, trying uselessly to scream and rage. Sam lost himself for a moment, staring at the flow of thick red power.

He leaned down and buried his face in it.

Eric watched from across the room, head tilted to the side in contemplation.

The demon managed to push Sam off enough to punch the hunter in the face. Sam reared back, face covered in blood. Eric came forward quickly, but stopped short when Sam raised his hand right in front of the demon's face.

This time the black smoke started flowing immediately. It took only a few seconds before the body of a local carpenter fell to the side, a large hole through his neck.

Sam gasped and tried to calm his breathing. He was feeling the demon blood flowing through him, awakening the old powers. The vampire blood hadn't been enough, he knew now. It could only be demon blood. He looked up at Eric.

'I- I'm sorry,' he found himself saying. Eric reached out and cupped the side of Sam's face.

'No, don't be sorry,' he said softly, smiling even. 'My blood was clearly not enough.' He leaned down, Sam leaning up, and they kissed softly, the blood smearing between them. 'We'll get you more,' he whispered. Sam couldn't feel anything but relief at the thought.

Suddenly, Eric turned away sharply, doubling over in pain. Sam got to his feet, but Eric held up a hand to stop him. The vampire gave several horrible grunts of pain.

'Stay here,' he told Sam and then hurried out the back. Sam looked around him in confusion.

Outside Eric stumbled away from the house.

'Dammit,' he muttered, face contorted in anger and frustration. 'You're too weak!'

He fell to his knees as another spasm seemed to snap through him.

XXX

Dean left Fangtasia feeling even more annoyed and agitated than before. The anti-vampire protester muttered another insult and Dean reacted without thought. He pushed the guy, hard. Luckily for both of them the rest of the crowd caught him. They didn't bother Dean more after that. He got into the Impala and took a deep breath.

Then he hit the steering wheel. Hard.

'Fuck!'

Sam had found Eric, gone off with him and was now God knew where. And he hadn't called.

As fate would have it, Dean's phone chose that exact moment to ring. He managed to drop it in his haste to get it out. By the time he flipped it open he was too panicky to even check the caller ID.

'What?' he demanded into the phone.

'Dean…' a hoarse voice, filled with pain, like he was lifting something really heavy off himself.

'Eric?' Dean asked. If Eric was this bad, where was Sam?

'We're in… Osceola, Arkansas…' Eric bit out through gritted teeth. 'An abandoned house on-' He gave a moan of pain.

'Where's Sam?' Dean asked. 'Eric, is Sam okay?' The line went silent for a long time. Dean almost gave up and hung up when Eric came back on, sounding completely different.

'False alarm, Dean,' Eric said, voice almost sweet. 'Sam is fine. We're both fine.'

'Who are you?' Dean asked, following his instincts.

'Forgotten me already, Dean? Now that hurts,' Eric said.

'Where's Sam?' Dean demanded.

'He's fine. Better than fine, actually. I'm afraid I have to go now. You take care, Dean.'

Dean closed his eyes and threw the phone into the passenger seat. After taking a moment to shove down the overwhelming anger he felt, he put his baby into gear and hightailed it like a bat out of hell towards Arkansas.


	5. Chapter 5

Supernatural Blood Part II, Chapter 5.

'Cas, please, come on. I'm praying as hard as I can here,' Dean muttered, head down and hands folded. The Impala sat by the curb outside a rundown building. Inside, Dean had found several dead bodies, and sulfur, a lot of it. He had tried calling Sam's phone again, and realised that Eric probably had it, or the SIM card in his own phone. That was why his calls were being rejected all the time. It all came down to two conclusions.

Eric – or whoever it was – had somehow tricked Sam, and his brother was using his powers again.

Which meant Dean didn't really want to be calling Cas, considering the angel had told Sam he'd kill him if he started using his powers again, but what other options did he have?

He had to find Sam, but he didn't even know where to start. They had a whole day's head-start, in any direction. If he had an army of hunters, they could still easily hide. A vampire in this day and age could just check into a hotel and order a supply of True Blood to last a week.

'Dean,' Cas' voice was soft, but Dean still couldn't suppress a slight twitch. The angel was in the passenger seat, looking a little haggard. 'Are you any closer to finding Sam?'

'I think I'm farther away than before, to be honest,' Dean sighed. 'I think Eric might be possessed.'

'That's not possible,' Cas said with a frown.

'What?'

'Vampires are near impossible to posses because their souls are bonded to their bodies differently that with mortals.'

'I'm telling you, Cas, that wasn't Eric on the phone. I mean, it was him, but then the tone of his voice changed. It wasn't him anymore.' Cas looked unconvinced. 'You said near impossible, not totally impossible, right?'

'Perhaps...'

Dean sighed, trying to think, but his mind was filled with Sam. His little brother drinking demon blood. When he ha first heard about Eric, he had been so convinced Sam was hooked on V. Then he found out about Ruby... it was all just a story to him, though, because he couldn't imagine actually seeing it. Sam was the good one.

'You must find him. If he is using his powers-'

'You'll kill him?' Dean hadn't meant to bark it out like that. Cas gave him a half-impatient, half-sympathetic.

'When a person drinks from demons, nothing good comes from it,' Cas said quietly. Dean couldn't figured out that for himself, he thought grumpily. 'They can be very convincing.'

'Sam can't know,' Dean said, shaking his head. 'He doesn't know Eric's a demon.' That just meant he thought he was drinking V... which was just about as bad, but in the end meant a bad detoxing, not an angelic assassin.

'That may very well be the case. We must stop him. Maybe if you can reach him, he will listen to you.'

'I've been calling him non-stop. I think Eric has his phone...' Dean looked out the window as the building, trying to picture Sam in there, using whatever his powers were. God, he didn't even know what Sam could do past having those weird visions, but they hadn't happened since Yellow Eyes. Jesus, why would Sam go down that road? To kill Lilith, obviously, which they still had to do, somehow-

'We need to find Lilith,' Dean said, looking at Cas. 'That's why Sam got together with Ruby in the first place, right?'

'Yes...' Cas looked uncomfortable, like he was trying to say something, but knew he shouldn't.

'If we find out where Lilith is, that's probably where Sam is heading.'

'Most likely...' Cas was practically mumbling.

'Cas? What aren't you telling me?' Cas looked out the window, eyes almost sad. 'Cas?' Dean had a sinking feeling in his gut.

'You've probably wondered why Ruby was helping Sam kill Lilith.'

'I kinda assumed she just said that to trick him.'

'No, she was quite serious about it.'

Dean waited for the other shoe to drop.

'And?' he finally demanded. 'She wanted Lilith's job? Or another demon running the show? What's the deal?'

'She wanted to start the Apocalypse.' Dean blinked.

'How does killing Lilith do that?' Cas finally turned to look Dean in the eye.

'Lilith is the final seal. Sam's destiny is to kill her and release Lucifer from his cage. The angels want this to happen, and I have been a party to their plans, but...' Dean watched as the usually stoic angel struggled to find the words. He felt like he couldn't breathe. 'I have decided to make what I believe is the right choice. The threat on Sam's life was a ruse. My real task was to find him and make sure he is in the right place at the right time.'

'Wait, wait,' Dean pleaded, a hand coming up to hold his head. 'This is- the angels want it all to happen?'

'Yes.'

'And Sam's-' Dean closed his eyes.

'I'm truly sorry, Dean.'

'For what? That all your brothers are dicks? That the world is so fucked up even the good guys are... a bunch of dicks.' He was having a bad day, he reasoned, so he was allowed to be a little unimaginative with his insults.

'We must find Sam.'

'I heard you the first fifty times!' Dean yelled, then pulled himself together. Yelling at Cas wouldn't do any good. Cas remained silent, thankfully. 'The plan's still sound,' he thought out loud. 'They want Sam to kill Lilith, and he thinks he should. So we find her before they do.'

'We might be too late. Sam may be too far gone by then.'

'Well, unless you have any better ideas, that's what I'm gonna do.' Cas didn't say anything, and when Dean looked, he was gone. He sighed, hoping the angel was going demon hunting. He put the car in gear and pointed her towards Bobby. It was a long drive, but he knew he needed the older hunter to find out how to get to Lilith. There just had to be some ritual, someone they could contact, that could lead them to her.

'Hang on, Sammy,' he muttered, 'I'm coming.'

XXX

'I think you're ready,' Eric announced. Sam gazed up at him from the floor. He had blood running from his nose, dark circles under his eyes, but he looked relieved. He had just gutted three demons simultaneously. Eric held out a hand, which Sam took gratefully. They left the abandoned warehouse. In times like these, empty buildings were easy to come by. As they walked to the car, Sam asked:

'Do you know how to find her?'

'I have an idea,' Eric said cryptically. Sam glanced at him. He reached out and took hold of the pale wrist. Eric stopped and turned towards him.

Sam pulled the vampire towards him and captured his lips in a kiss. Eric kissed back hard. Sam pulled away a little.

'Easy,' he whispered. 'Just... a kiss.' Eric didn't seem to understand. Sam pressed his lips softly to Eric's, holding his head so he wouldn't press back too hard.

Suddenly, the vampire wrenched himself away, doubling over in pain. Sam tried to help, to keep him from falling, but before he could get a grip the vampire jerked, spinning to catch hold around Sam's neck. Sam ended up looking down into wild eyes.

Eric opened his mouth, but no words came out.

'Eric, what's wrong! Please, tell me.' They had never spoken about Eric's pain. Sam felt helpless as Eric stiffened in his arms, his eyes squeezing shut. The hunter looked around them, looking for help, or checking to see if they were alone, he didn't quite know. The road was completely empty, the abandoned buildings not even fit for a hidden vampire hangout.

Just as suddenly as Eric's pain had appeared, it disappeared, and the vampire righted himself abruptly. He smoothed down the fabric of his t-shirt and glanced at Sam.

'I'm all right now,' he murmured and walked around the car to the driver's side. Sam got in, feeling uneasy, but he didn't know what to say. Eric barely waited for Sam to get the door closed before speeding off. Sam watched him as he drove.

They left the decaying industrial side of town and drove into an equally rundown residential area. Sam barely noticed the houses passing by them.

'You know I love you right?' he felt the urge to say. Eric gripped the wheel tight, but didn't reply. 'You can talk to me about what happened to you,' Sam went on, knowing it was stupid to bring it up. Eric was helping him, making him strong and they were going to kill Lilith, so shouldn't he help Eric too? He felt so powerful from the blood, surely he could fix this?

'Just leave it,' Eric snapped. Sam pursed his lips.

'You've done so much for me, can't I just help you talk about this?'

The car's tires screeched as Eric suddenly threw the wheel to the side, hitting the curb hard and jolting the old Cadillac they'd stolen. They flew through an already broken fence and stopped abruptly on the gray front lawn of a house without windows left.

'What the hell did you do that for!' Sam yelled. He had almost hit his head on the dash when Eric had hit the brakes. Eric was leaning against the steering wheel, breathing hard. Sam leaned over and almost touched the vampire's shoulder, but hesitated. 'Eric?'

'Help... me,' Eric's voice rasped out.

'Okay,' Sam said, finally placing his hand on the cold shoulder. 'I'll help you, just tell me what to do.'

Eric shook his head twice quick, then leaned back and reached out. The movement was so fast Sam barely had time to react before Eric was biting his neck. He grunted, half in pain, half pleasure.

'Eric, Jesus,' he moaned. Eric hadn't drunk from him in a while, but he had certainly done it several times sine Sam had started taking demon blood. They hadn't discussed its effects on Eric, but Sam couldn't deny the vampire anything.

Eric pulled away abruptly and held up his wrist to Sam's face. With his eyes locked on Sam's he deliberately used his sharp nails to pierce his skin. Sam felt hot all over, and he didn't hesitate to attach his mouth to the wound.

He didn't see Eric's smug smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Supernatural Blood, Part II, Chapter Six.

Bobby's house lay quiet, the wind itself showing respect to the two hunters who needed the silence. The only sound was the endless turning of pages all through the day, and into the night.

There weren't enough books in the world to find what they needed, and there wasn't time to read them all anyway. Dean was reading on autopilot by now, if that was possible. He would occasionally get his phone out and stare at the display, willing Sam to get a clue and call him.

'Are you gonna call him?' Bobby grumbled from behind his overflowing desk when Dean had done this about a hundred times, give or take. The young man glanced up and put the phone away, a little guiltily. He went back to his book, but then he heard Bobby sigh and the sound of a big tome closing. When he glanced up Bobby had leaned back in his chair with a look of defeat, but with that "let's be realistic" raise of his eyebrows he always did when Dean knew hope was running out.

'Don't say it, Bobby,' he dismissed the old hunter, focusing on the Latin in front of him, but the words were blurring and he wasn't the best at Latin, he knew. He could pick out the words he needed, but he was barely seeing straight in the dim light.

'Even if we find Lilith, and Sam and Eric, how the hell we're gonna stop a thousand year old vampire turned demon, and Sam hopped up on demon blood?' He made a gesture of impatience and frustration. 'I mean, do we even know what Sam can do when he's been drinking? I assume it's a bit more than having visions if he's gonna use them to gank Lilith?'

'I don't think I want to know,' Dean grumbled. He let his eyes wander over to the window and the dark night beyond. There was a dark hole in his stomach, and he knew at any moment he would collapse in on himself. Such thoughts were melodramatic and pointless, however, so he cleared his throat and refocused.

'Cas will find her,' he said, 'and we'll figure out the rest. Sam'll listen.' The last was said more to himself than to Bobby.

'Do you remember what Sam told us about the detoxing?' Bobby asked pointedly.

'Of course I remember,' Dean snapped, getting up abruptly and stalking towards the kitchen, only to turn and start pacing instead. 'He said he hallucinated for days. What's that got to do with anything?'

'The point is we don't know what he's like when he's on the stuff,' Bobby explained calmly. 'He could be violent, or completely in Eric- the demon's- power.' Dean sighed and rubbed at his face, coming to a stop in front of the window.

The flutter of wings made Dean spin around. Cas looked just about as tired as he usually did.

'You've found him?' Dean asked, unable to keep the hope from his voice.

'No,' Cas replied, 'but I think I've found out where Lilith is going to be.'

'Where?'

'Understand, Dean, if we do this, we will become the enemies of heaven.' Cas' eyes were deadly serious, and Dean shot an uneasy glance at Bobby.

'I'm not a big fan of your brothers, Cas, so I couldn't really care less.' Dean gave a half-shrug. Cas nodded knowingly. He looked a little lost.

'I do not want Sam to kill Lilith,' he admitted.

'I'm glad we're on the same side. Now, where's the demon bitch hiding out?'

'I only know where she plans for Sam to kill her.'

'Care to get to the bottom line, Cas?' The angel informed them of the location, at a nunnery no less.

'A week from now,' Cas told them.

'Okay, we'll be there to stop it.'

'We will try,' Cas agreed, and disappeared. Dean and Bobby looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. A week was a long time to wait for a battle to begin. A whole week for Sam to drink himself full of demon blood a hundred times over.

They put themselves in gear and started taking account of their ammo and supplies.

XXX

They had stopped at a small town because Eric was sure a middle-ranking demon was hiding out there. Not one in Lilith's employ, but strong enough for Sam to practice on.

They cornered the bastard in the house of the demon's meat-suit. Sam didn't register the nice decor they quickly demolished in the fight. The annoying thing about his situation was that he couldn't just start using his powers; he needed to get a hold on the demon so he could drink his fill. Eric's blood wasn't enough to sustain him. This demon was strong enough to last him a while, though he'd have to drink again before he went after Lilith.

The demon got in a sudden punch, sending Sam backwards, tumbling over the couch. He hit a cabinet filled with nice glassware, a vase falling and hitting his head. He looked up just as the demon took hold of the end of the couch and flipped it to the side. He, a big lug of a man, smirked as his eyes went black.

Sam held up his hand and the demon stopped abruptly, getting that constipated look on his face they always got as he tried to keep his demon soul in.

Eric came up behind, grabbing the demon's arms and holding him tight.

'Drink,' the vampire ordered. Sam scrambled to his feet, letting the demon go. It trashed in Eric's arms. Sam approached, a small smirk on his lips.

'You'll never get her,' the demon growled, 'you're stupid to even try.' Sam ignored him and took out a small pocket knife. The blood started flowing, a beautiful sight. The demon tried to open its mouth to escape, but Eric pressed his hand over the mouth as Sam gulped down the power. It tasted almost sweet to him these days.

When he felt his stomach filling, he pulled back and held his hand to the demon's chest. Eric let go of its mouth and the black smoke flowed easily, so quickly it felt better than ever before. Sam felt elated, like a weight had been taken off him. He really was ready.

When the black smoke was destroyed, Eric dropped the meat-suit thoughtlessly, smiling a proud smile at Sam, who returned it gratefully. A horrible gurgling sound interrupted them. Sam looked down; the man was alive.

'He- he-' the man tried to speak, gasping, but blood was coming out of his mouth as well. Sam's cut had been deeper than necessary. The hunter dropped to his knees, slipping a hand under the man's head.

'It's okay,' he whispered, his elation from earlier gone in a flash. The man's eyes were filled with fear. He reached up and gripped Sam's jacket. Sam pressed his other hand to the wound. 'Keep still, we'll get you help.'

Sam jumped as Eric suddenly stabbed the man violently in the stomach. The man gave a wordless cry, and then died. Sam watched as the life drained from the man. When it was gone, the hunter got to his feet unsteadily. Eric was wiping the knife clean in a meticulous way, eyes cold and professional. Sam felt like he was having trouble breathing. Eric caught a look of him and put the knife away, giving the hunter a condescending stare.

'He was dead, Sam.'

'No, he wasn't,' Sam heard himself say. He felt like he was watching the scene from the bottom of a deep hole.

'He was as good as, I just put him out of his misery. The demons ride them too hard, they always do.'

'No, not this one,' Sam shook his head, staring down at the dead man. 'I killed him, when I fed on him.' He put a hand to his mouth, certain he was going to throw up any second.

'Sam, come on,' Eric said, his voice sounding strange in Sam's ears. 'Be realistic. You can't save everybody.'

'I could have saved him,' Sam whispered. 'That was why I started using my powers in the first place, to save the vessels, to get the demon out without harming them.' Eric sighed and came round the dead body, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder.

'You should be proud,' he told the hunter. 'You just killed a powerful middle-ranking demon. You haven't done that in ages.' He leaned in to whisper seductively in Sam's ear, not noticing how Sam had gone stiff as a statue. 'Remember the last time you got a big baddie like this? We went back to the motel and had sex for two days straights. What do you say? Wanna celebrate?'

Sam swallowed several times, slowly turning his head towards the vampire. He gazed into the smirking face for a second before kissing him hard. Eric kissed back, gripping Sam's head and angling it the way he wanted. Sam pulled back abruptly.

'You know I love you, right?'

Eric smiled tightly. 'Of course.'

'I mean it,' Sam insisted. 'You've done so much for me. I love you. I. Love. You,' he enunciated very clearly. Eric stepped back, turning away. 'What's wrong?' Sam asked, voice full of concern.

'I'm thirsty,' Eric said. 'I think I'm going to find some True Blood. Why don't you head down to the diner you ate at last night? I'll meet you there once I'm feeling better.'

Eric didn't look back as he exited the house. Sam stood for a long moment, a dead man at his feet, the living room destroyed around him. Eventually, he left and drove down to the diner. Once inside, he noticed a pay phone in the hallway leading to the bathroom in the back. His feet seemed to carry him there of their own free will. He didn't know why he didn't just pull out his own phone, but there was something comforting about feeling the old shape of a phone against his ear as he pushed in some change and pressed the old sticky buttons.

He studied people's scratchings on the walls. Someone had written "Call me – guy you met at the bar last night," and their number.

Finally, he heard his brother's voice.

XXX

Dean's phone rang as he was packing away the books they wouldn't be needing on a high shelf. He pushed the last book in as he fished out his phone from his pocket. The caller ID was unknown.

'Hello?' He heard some odd heavy breathing and was about to tell the jerk he'd gotten the wrong number, when Sam's voice came across the line, small and afraid.

'Dean.' The older brother immediately sat down in the chair by the desk, all focus on Sam's voice.

'Sam?' He tried to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest. 'Listen to me, Sammy. Don't think about anything else right now, okay? Just tell me where you are, right now.' He silently prayed for Sam to listen to him. There was a long pause, as if Sam was looking around to find out where he was.

'I'm in Milford, Iowa,' he confessed, giving the exact address of the diner he was in. Dean wrote it down quick.

'Okay, Sammy,' Dean continued, speaking slowly. 'I want you to get in whatever car you have, or steal the first one you can find, and drive towards Bobby's. I'm gonna get in my car right this second and drive towards you. We'll meet halfway. Do you understand?'

'Dean- I... I think-'

'Sam, please,' Dean begged. 'Eric is not who you think he is.' He knew it was a big risk to say it, but he had to take it. The line was silent for a long time, and Dean had almost given up hope. Then he heard Sam, but he wasn't talking to him.

'I was trying to call Dean,' Sam was saying. 'I miss him... but he's not picking up-' The line went dead and Dean pushed against the desk so hard most of the books on it wobbled off.

'Fuck!' He didn't wait for Bobby to come back from town. He just got in the Impala and drove. He knew his chances of finding Sam were slim, but he didn't have anything else he should be doing.

He just hoped Sam had believed him, or was at least entertaining the possibility.

XXX

'And what would you have done if he had picked up?' Sam shrugged, leaning against the wall.

'Say goodbye, I guess, just in case we get our asses handed to us by Lilith.' Eric reached out and cupped the side of Sam's face, smiling indulgently.

'Don't worry, you're strong enough.' Sam smiled, nodding and then stealing a quick kiss from the vampire.

'Let's go celebrate,' he said, smiling.

'Aren't you hungry?' Eric asked.

'Yeah, for you,' Sam grinned, pulling at the black t-shirt Eric always wore. 'What was our record? Two days, right? Let's see if we can't beat that. I wanna fuck a year's worth before I have to gank the bitch.' The vampire returned the grin and they retired to their motel room.


	7. Chapter 7

Notes: I hate this chapter. It's uninspired, but what can you do? I should probably have taken up with my beta again when I realised the schedule had gone to pot. Oh, well.

Chapter 7.

A few hours later, in a motel-room smelling of sex...

After their second round, Eric had gone to get Sam a coke from the vending machine while the hunter lay in bed in only his boxers. He didn't look like he had just had great sex, though.

The hunter appeared pensive. He was waiting for something. He knew all he had to do was push the issue, but a part of him didn't want to, for fear that he was right. If he was right, however, then push was exactly what he had to do.

Sam watched carefully when the vampire returned. Eric wore only a pair of tight jeans, the bad lighting in the crap motel room making him look more pasty than ethereal. He came over with a smile, placing the coke can on the nightstand. Sam smiled tightly in gratitude.

'What are you thinking about?' Eric asked, tilting his head curiously. Sam glanced at him.

'Nothing special,' he muttered.

'You look like someone killed you puppy,' Eric remarked, going round to his side of the bed and slumping down on it. 'You know we still have time for a little more celebration...' Eric hinted. 'Lilith won't be in position until Friday. We don't need to leave here before tomorrow morning.'

'And how is it you know this again?'

'I have my ways.'

Sam's teeth ground together, but then he closed his eyes for a brief moment before turning towards Eric with a smile. He leaned down and kissed the vampire softly.

'I'm glad you're here,' he whispered.

'So am I,' Eric replied between kisses.

'I love you,' Sam murmured. 'Do you love me?'

'Of-' There was a flash of pain across Eric's face.

'Eric, I love you,' Sam repeated more insistently. 'I need your help.'

'What are you talking about?' Eric asked. He tensed. Sam rolled on top of him completely, taking hold of the vampire's wrists and placing them on either side of Eric's head, their faces nose-to-nose.

'I need you, Eric,' he whispered. He kissed him hard, but not harshly. 'Eric.' He allowed the vampire to roll them over, even though the jeans weren't very comfortable against Sam's crotch. They kissed and touched. Sam continued to whisper Eric's name over and over. 'Eric, Eric, Eric...'

Suddenly, the vampire went stiff in his arms, his face buried in Sam's neck, probably seconds away from biting.

'Will you just shut up,' he growled. He was about to say something else when his whole body shook. Sam held him tight, but had to let go when Eric pushed himself up abruptly, hands on either side of Sam's head. His eyes were intense and looked blood-shot, as if he had been awake for days.

'Sam-' he gasped. He squeezed his eyes shut, arms shaking. When he opened them they were black.

Sam gasped, reacting instinctively by pushing the demon with all his strength. Caught unawares, it flew backwards off the bed and hit the floor. Before it had time to get up, Sam sat up in bed with his hand raised.

The demon coughed at Sam's initial push of power, but it was strong. Sam grit his teeth as he focused.

'Don't be stupid, Sam,' it hissed. 'You need me, you know you do.'

'Let him go,' Sam growled.

'We're fused together,' the demon said, 'if you kill me, you'll kill him.'

'I don't believe you!'

'He's a vampire, his soul is mine!'

'If you get out of him right now I won't kill you,' Sam bargained, then added low: 'Ruby.' The black eyes flashed again.

'What gave me away?' Ruby asked, smiling and showing off Eric's canines.

'You mentioned the last time we had celebrated,' Sam said, 'that was before Eric exorcised you.'

'Ah,' Ruby nodded, 'a small slip of the tongue, but you have to admit, I had you going.' Sam grimaced at the truth of the statement. Ruby took the opportunity to rise to her-or his-feet. Sam held up his hand in warning. 'Come on, Sam,' Ruby insisted, 'you need me to kill Lilith.'

'No,' Sam shook his head, 'I'm strong enough on my own.' Ruby laughed, but stopped abruptly at the look in Sam's eyes. Just as she made to lunge at him, he redoubled his efforts. Finally, Ruby began coughing up black smoke.

It was hard; Sam was getting a massive headache very quickly. Slowly, Ruby sank to Eric's knees, hands desperately pushing in the black smoke. Sam's nose was bleeding, but he hardly noticed.

'You need me!' Ruby gasped.

'No!' Sam yelled.

XXX

A few moments earlier, a day's ride out from Bobby's, Dean was racing down the highway in the Impala, praying harder than he ever had.

'Come on Cas, I've finally found him!' he growled, gripping the wheel so tight he was getting blisters on his hands. He had been praying steadily all day. He didn't just pray to Cas, though. He prayed to God Sam would keep the demon in the same town long enough for him to get there. He had already looked the town up and found the cheapest motel. If only Cas could pop in so they could zap straight to Sam-

'I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner.' The angelic voice triggered an immediate reaction: Dean stomped on the breaks hard enough that Castiel actually hit his head on the dash. The angel didn't seem to mind that much, though. He merely gave Dean a concerned expression. Dean guided the Impala as far off the road as the terrain allowed before turning to the angel.

'I found Sam, you need to zap me there right now.'

'All right,' Cas replied immediately and Dean released a breath. A part of him had been scared Cas wouldn't be able to do it. The angel was more than capable once Dean gave him the address.

Once outside the cheap motel it was only a matter of taking in the layout of the place and finding which room Sam was likely to take. It was a one-story structure in the same of an L, with only a couple of cars parked outside, one by the reception and one at the end.

Dean knew it would be the last one on the block, with the beat-up old Cadillac outside.

He jogged towards the room, not even caring if Cas followed or disappeared. When he reached the last door he hesitated for a second. He had no idea what they would be doing in there-

'No!' Sam's yell spurred him into action and he just kicked the damn door open without a second thought.

The scene he was met with wasn't one he could have predicted.

Sam was on the bed, nearly naked, nose bleeding and hand outstretched towards Eric, who was spewing demon smoke all over the floor around him.

'You're-... not... strong... eno-' the demon tried to speak, but Sam gave a painful cry and the demon gave up its last essence. The smoke seemed to simmer around the vampire before burning away, leaving no trance of it.

Eric wobbled on his knees a bit, and then fell to the side with a dull thud.

Sam pulled himself off the bed and onto the floor, taking Eric's head and placing it in his lap.

'Eric? Eric! Please, please, no,' he whispered, sounding absolutely broken. Dean was so stunned by what he had just witnessed he barely registered when Sam looked up at him.

'Dean?' Sam asked, as if he wasn't sure Dean was real. The elder hunter shook himself and came forwards, dropping down to his knees by Eric's side. He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder, forcing Sam to look him in the eye.

Dean had another shock when he realized Sam had the same look he had worn on the day Jess had burned. That same hopeless, guilt-ridden look of grief.

'I'm here,' was all Dean could think of to say. Sam nodded tightly and looked down at Eric.

'I don't know if he- if he survived,' Sam whispered. Dean glanced over his shoulder, checking to see if the angel had followed. Sure enough, Cas stood in the doorway, a look of uncertainty on his face. Dean hesitated to ask if an angel could heal a vampire.

Then Eric opened his eyes. He didn't gasp for breath, which unnerved Dean more than he cared to admit.

'Eric,' Sam did gasp, tilting the vampire's face up so they could look directly at each other. Eric reached up and touched Sam's face.

'Forgive me,' Eric whispered. Sam shook his head several times.

'No, it was me. I-'

'Sam, look at me,' Eric instructed. Sam frowned, continuing to stare at the vampire. There was a pause before Sam stiffened. 'Let it happen. Your strength prevents me from forcing you, but you need to let me in,' Eric told him. 'I'm going to put you to sleep. You'll wake up somewhere safe.'

Sam took a deep breath and allowed Eric to glamor him. Dean watched, feeling unsure about a lot of things, but considering what he had just witnessed, he thought perhaps Sam taking a nap would be for the best. As Sam slumped, Eric moved quicker than a human could and placed him in bed. Afterward, he found his t-shirt and put it on.

'I'm going to dress him, and then we need to get him to Bobby's,' he said quietly, eyes on Sam. Dean watched the vampire, for what he wasn't sure. He felt like he should be having a massive reaction to all this, but he was numb instead.

'What happened?' he heard himself ask.

'A lot,' Eric sighed, 'I'll tell you everything once we have him in a safe location.'

'Ruby's dead, right?' Dean asked just to be sure.

'Yes, Sam's powers destroy the demons completely. I meant a safe location for him to detox in.' Dean swallowed at the thought. 'I think Bobby's panic room would be ideal.'

Dean nodded and decided to let Eric dress Sam on his own. He waited outside with Cas, who like him was silent. There was a strange feeling of relief and dread in the air.

Once Sam was decent, and Cas had zapped them all back to Bobby's (getting the car as well), Eric placed Sam on the couch temporarily. Bobby didn't ask, but showed them the panic room.

Eric stopped at the entrance, almost like a demon would when encountering a trap. Dean, who had entered first, turned and tensed with suspicion.

'What's wrong?' Bobby asked from behind.

'It would appear I need a separate invitation for this room. It is a house onto itself, self-sufficient.' Both hunters still watched with suspicion after Bobby had given the invitation, but Eric appeared to have no problem in the iron cage. He looked around, taking in the books and interesting posters.

'Everything must be removed,' he declared after a moment. 'Nothing but a bed in the center, with restraints.'

'Restraints?' Dean asked. Eric looked at him.

'For his own safety,' he murmured. Neither hunters nor vampire spoke another word as they made the room ready.

Dean stayed out of the way as Eric carried Sam downstairs. It was disconcerting to see the tall vampire sling the Sasquatch over his shoulder as if it was nothing. He watched as Eric strapped Sam onto the bed, softly pushing some hair out of the sleeping face before exiting the room. He didn't close the door, looking at Dean in a silent question.

'How bad is it gonna be?' Dean asked instead of going in. Sam looked almost peaceful, probably a result of the glamor.

'Bad,' Eric replied. 'Last time I offered to ease his pain with some of my blood, but he made me promise not to give it to him.' Dean glanced at him sharply.

'Vampire blood would help?'

'They have a canceling effect,' Eric explained. 'A mild one, but still there. That is why Ruby had such trouble possessing me at first.'

'Shit, that was Ruby in you? Bitch,' Dean muttered grumpily. He sighed a moment later. 'Could you tell me everything?'

'Of course.' Before they could turn and go upstairs, however, Sam made a noise within the chamber. Eric was by his side in literally the blink of an eye. Dean hurried to the entrance, but kept out of sight as Eric knelt by the bed.

Sam blinked his eyes open slowly, his eyes going from calm to anguished in increments as he remembered what had happened. He looked around, ending his inspection with a guilty look at Eric.

'You're in Bobby's panic room,' Eric told him unnecessarily. Sam nodded, pulling at the restraints to check on them. 'I thought it best to be prepared.'

'Yeah,' Sam whispered. 'Good thinking.'

'Do not blame yourself Sam. If anyone is to blame-'

'I drank the stuff, it was my choice,' Sam cut in, turning his head away to stare at the wall to the left.

'Only because I told you to.'

'I should have know it wasn't you.'

'I should have been able to take control.'

'Just...' Sam squeezed his eyes shut. 'Don't give me anything.' Eric hesitated. 'Promise me, like before.'

'You've drunk so much, a little of my blood could help-'

'I don't want it.'

'If this is some method of punishing yourself-'

'Just don't put anymore blood in me!' Sam bit his lip after his outburst. Eric nodded, leaned down and pressed a kiss to Sam's furrowed brow, and left. Dean waited outside, out of sight, and closed the door before Sam saw him.

He had to wait until he heard the whole story.


	8. Chapter 8

Note: a very short chapter, I know. I'm completely swamped at school. You have no idea. I was in lectures till seven in the evening yesterday. I'm exhausted.

Chapter 8.

A strange scene could be observed in Bobby's living room. Two hunters sitting across from a vampire, all three of them looking a little stretched. Eric was sitting on the edge of his chair, elbows on his knees, head down. Dean and Bobby kept exchanging glances, wondering if they should say something or let the vampire take his time.

Eric had explained about his capture: he had been taken and tortured to the point where Ruby managed to possess him. He had periodically tried to break through, espcially when Sam had found him, but he had not been able to until Sam started reaching out to him.

Part of Dean wanted to blame Eric for Sam, but he knew he couldn't. Even if Sam had thought Eric had been the one who wanted him to drink, it had still been his choice.

'At first, Sam thought Ruby was offering him vampire blood,' Eric spoke slowly, each word dragged out kicking and screaming. 'He believed it would make him strong without becoming a slave to demons. Then, when Ruby realised my vampire blood was diluting her powers, she convinced him it had to be demon blood.'

'So, the vampire/demon combo did nothing to him?' Dean asked.

'It did something,' Eric admitted, 'I am not sure exactly how it effected him, but I do know one thing: it reawakened his thirst.' Dean shifted uncomfortably at the word. His mind kept conjuring up pictures of Sam's face covered in blood, or worse, with fangs like a vampire or black eyes like a demon.

'He still drank your blood, believing it was V,' Dean muttered.

'He trusted me completely,' Eric said curtly. 'Ruby told him he had to drink so he could kill Lilith.'

'You know we can't kill her, right?' Dean asked, just to make sure they were on the same page. Eric nodded.

'I had a unique insight into her mind while she was… inside me. Her true objective is known only to her and Lilith. Even other demons believe she is a traitor.'

The three fell silent. Eventually Bobby got up to get the humans a drink, and Eric said he had to go out before the sun came up.

'You're welcome to stay in the basement,' Bobby said, thought the tone of his voice wasn't enthusiastic.

'I must sleep in the ground, and then drink the moment I rise.' He noticed the look on Dean's face, and added, 'True Blood, that is.' Dean shrugged one shoulder, like it wasn't his business.

'And if Sam asks for you?' Bobby asked. Eric rose and went to the window, looking at the lightening sky.

'Tell him I will return when I can.'

He disappeared so fast Dean only felt the woosh of air as the vampire moved past him out the door. Bobby made a grunting noise and filled his glass more, getting Dean a double as well. After Dean had downed the drink, needing the courage from the burn, he sat the glass down on the table forcefully and went to the kitchen. He got a glass of water and descended to the basement.

Sam's eyes were wide and hopeful when Dean pulled the door open, but when the "captive" realised who it was his face fell with guilt and he looked away. He looked so thin on the bed, due to the fact that it dipped so much Sam's body looked like it was collapsing in on itself.

'I… I brought you some water,' Dean said, coming over to the bed. Sam's face was pinched tight.

'Thanks, I'm not thirsty,' he said. Dean nodded, more to himself than Sam, and decided to set the glass down on the floor by the bed for the moment. He went outside and got one of the chairs they had removed from the room when "remodelling" it for Sam, and placed it by the bed. He sat down heavily, waiting for Sam to turn his head, but his brother didn't. That was fine, Dean thought, for he wasn't sure he could say anything with those puppy eyes staring at him.

'Eric told me the whole story,' he said. He waited a beat to see if Sam would react. Nothing. 'If you want me to say it wasn't your fault, I could, but I don't think either of us want to hear it.'

'It's my fault,' Sam said. Dean could tell immediately from his brother's voice that he was holding in a flood of emotions, and the dam was going to break any minute.

'Sam,' Dean sighed. 'I'm not gonna lie. I want to cut that vamps head off so much I-' He got up to pace, feeling on edge. 'But if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't even be here, so I guess we're stuck with him.' He stopped when he had come round to the other side. Sam's eyes were closed, squeezed shut in pain.

'You don't understand,' Sam gasped. 'I wanted to drink. When Eric- Ruby told me to, I was relieved, overjoyed even, like he'd given me permission.' Dean wasn't sure if that was the truth coming out of Sam's mouth, or more guilt.

'Just… just detox, all right? You get through this and we'll help you keep clean. Eric will start wearing a anti-possession charm and it'll be okay.' Now who was talking out of guilt?

'Just go, please,' Sam whispered, pulling weakly at the restrains, tears running over his nose and down his right cheek. Dean almost turned to go, but a thought occured to him:

He had allowed them to split up before, and look where it got them. He had turned away from Sam due to his own misplaced righteousness, even though he had known deep down it was a mistake to split up.

Sam had a problem, sure, but he was still Sam. Looking at his little brother, tied to the bed and shaking with guilt in an attempt to keep the sobs in that would come the second he was alone, Dean knew it was all bullshit.

The demon blood wasn't a part of Sam. It was in him, but it wasn't him. It was like being possessed. Sam couldn't control himself all the time. He had slipped up, lost control for a second due to an incredible temptation. In a way, there wasn't anyone to blame but that Yellow Eyed demonic bastard.

Dean fell to his knees by the head of the bed, reaching out to push Sam's hair out of his eyes. Sam tried turning his head even further to the left, straining his neck to push his eyes into the pillow, but it was impossible.

'I'm here, Sammy,' Dean whispered, feeling utterly helpless and yet more determined to help than he had in a long time. He felt the power of just being there, of not turning away. 'It's gonna be okay, we're getting through this together and then… you'll be okay.' Before he could change his mind, he leaned down quick and pressed a kiss to Sam's forehead. He hadn't done that since they were kids. Getting up quickly, he left the room, closing the heavy door behind him. After it was closed, he could still hear Sam release his sobs.


	9. Chapter 9

Note: I wanted this to be one massive last chapter to make up for the other short ones, but we're gonna need another one at least. Hope you enjoy. If you are still reading this, you are an awesome person. Seriously, I every comment is absolute love because while this story has been far from my best or most popular, I've grown strangely fond of it, and a big part of that is thanks to those who, like me, found this pairing interesting! Thank you!

Chapter 9.

The screaming didn't start until the next night, and even then Dean was surprised. He had thought they'd have more time, but Sam had drunk so much, so often, it wasn't entirely unexpected.

Bobby brought him water and talked to him until he became incoherent.

Dean couldn't bring himself to go downstairs for a long time.

At first the screams were angry. 'Let me out! This isn't fucking funny, Dean!' Then they were pleading. 'I'm okay now! Let me out, I feel fine! Please!' Then they changed, and slowly Dean realized Sam wasn't even aware of who or what he was screaming at.

Sometimes it was Eric, other times he called for help from anyone who would listen.

By midnight the screams were just painful wails and desperate 'no's that seemed to rattle the walls of the decaying house. The two hunters had long since started drinking. They made each other go down to check every once in a while; just taking quick peaks through the window in case Sam managed to twist out of the restraints and do something stupid.

It was Dean's second turn at around two o'clock. Even though the sunlight never came down to the basement, it still felt darker at night. The light was on in the panic room, though, so he didn't need a flashlight.

Sam had been quiet since Dean had come down the stairs. Inside, he lay whimpering, eyes squeezed shut and arms straining against the bounds so hard Dean wasn't sure they would hold through the whole ordeal. He decided to open the door and have a closer look.

'Sam?' he asked cautiously as he pushed his way inside. Sam let out a painful sound. Dean was at a loss of what to do.

Suddenly, Sam lurched to the side and threw up his last meal, managing to cover a wide area to the side of the bed. He coughed and made horrible gurgling sounds. Fearing he was going to choke, Dean ignored the sick and went to his brother's side. He pulled off the ratty old shirt he was wearing over his t-shirt and wiped at Sam's face.

He was pale and sweating profusely, but he was ice-cold to the touch. That more than anything scared the hell out of Dean.

'Please,' Sam gasped. 'No more.'

'It's me, Sammy,' Dean said, laying Sam's head gently into a more comfortable position. 'It's Dean.'

'No more, please,' Sam repeated tonelessly. His eyes slid closed and he drifted off into some sort of sleep. The smell hit Dean, and he knew he'd have to clean up. He thought about Eric doing the same, and couldn't quite picture it.

XXX

'What happened?' Bobby asked when Dean came up. He didn't answer, going straight for the kitchen to dispose of the soiled shirt and other rags he'd used to clean up the room. 'He get sick?' he heard Bobby ask.

'Yeah,' he called out, making sure the stench was sealed away in a garbage bag before taking it outside. The night was overclouded and dark. He stuffed the bag in the container Bobby kept for all the junk that could never be salvaged.

Closing his eyes, he took a moment to breathe in the fresh air, trying to clear his head.

A muffled scream ruined the moment.

'Damn it, Sammy,' he whispered.

'It's progressing fast.'

Dean spun around even though he knew immediately who it was. He just didn't like being sneaked up on. He glared at the pale vampire, noting Sam was nearing that color if things progressed any further.

'What do you want?' Dean wasn't in the mood for chatting with vampires. He stalked towards the porch.

'I came to see him of course, with your permission.' Dean stopped short, closing his eyes and willing himself to be patient. Eric was probably just saying that to manipulate him. Another scream reached them from the basement, through a thick wall of iron, the floor and the walls of the house. Dean turned to Eric, eyes hard.

'You can see him, if you help him.' Eric seemed to pause like he needed to decipher Dean's meaning.

'Dean-'

'It's not up for discussion.' Eric sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward as if a vampire would be the praying type. Dean waited. He felt both incredibly patient and ready to snap at any moment. It all depended on what the vampire answered.

'I gave Sam my word,' Eric said, almost apologetically. He sounded old. Dean could still hear the hesitation, however. He wasn't even consciously aware of having made the decision, but he knew he had to make Eric do what needed to be done. If a little more blood could make the situation more bearable, then so be it. Dean didn't ask himself who actually benefited from it.

'He's coming apart,' Dean pressed. 'Just give him something to take the edge off.'

'I gave my-'

'You're a vampire, your word means nothing to me,' Dean growled. 'Now, are you gonna help him, or am I gonna have to get Bobby to rescind your invitation?'

There was a momentary standoff as the two stared at each other.

'Fine,' Eric sighed. 'I will do it, but for him, not for you.'

'That's the deal,' Dean grumbled and went inside. He didn't bother telling Bobby what was up, and went down to the basement, Eric following dutifully. Sam was twitching, but thankfully silent except for the occasional whimper. Eric went to his side and knelt, turning Sam's twitching head towards him gently.

'Sam,' Eric whispered. Dean felt uncomfortable watching the clear display of affection and grief, but he made himself keep watch.

'Do it,' he said. Eric glanced at him briefly in irritation.

'Sam, listen to me, I'm going to give you a little of my blood to help you.'

Sam twitched and tried to turn his head away. 'No more, no more,' he mumbled.

'Sam, I need you to understand,' Eric said carefully. 'I'm doing this to help you.'

'No more, blood, no more.'

Eric brought his left wrist to his mouth and bit down. He held it out over Sam's mouth. The blood dripped down, hitting Sam right on the mouth. The reaction was immediate. Sam gasped and strained upwards towards the source of the blood. Dean grimaced, but kept watching. A few drops fell into Sam's mouth, but just as suddenly as Sam had reached towards the source, he twisted away.

'NO!' he screamed. Eric grabbed his chin, holding the head in position easily with his strength.

'Just a few drops more,' he said, pressing his wrist to Sam's mouth. Sam seemed to give in and suck for a few seconds, then Eric pulled his wrist away.

Sam's eyes rolled back into his head, and then he went limp, his breathing evening out as if he had simply fallen asleep. The only thing that ruined that thought was the smear of blood across his mouth. Dean would never get that picture out of his head.

Eric rose slowly.

'I don't know how long or how well it will effect him,' he said. He sounded defeated.

'He's asleep, that's something,' Dean pointed out. He left the room.

Upstairs Bobby was waiting for him, but one look from Dean told him more than he needed to know.

'You did something stupid, didn't ya?' he shook his head.

'I did what I had to do,' Dean told him, and himself. He went and poured himself a drink.

XXX

Bobby and Dean didn't move or speak until Eric came upstairs. They watched as the vampire paced back and forth a few times.

'Well?' Dean prompted. 'How's he doing?'

'Better, I think,' Eric murmured. Dean tried not to snap back. He was too tired to fight with the jerk anyway. 'I have to go.'

'Where?' Dean's anger came back with a rush, energizing him. He stood up and Eric turned to face him. 'Where the hell do you have to be?'

'Lilith expects me,' Eric replied. 'Or rather, Ruby in my form. I don't intend to disappoint her.'

'You think you can defeat Lilith?'

'She will be vulnerable,' Eric explained, his eyes alight with anticipation. Dean found it disturbing. 'She will send all her minions away because they don't know the true nature of her game. She'll want Sam to have a clear path to her. I will go to her and tell her Sam is on his way, then, when she is least expecting it, kill her.'

'Didn't you get the memo?' Bobby asked surly. 'Killing Lilith is what starts the apocalypse.'

'Sam killing Lilith starts the apocalypse,' Eric corrected. 'Not some random vampire. It's the only way to ensure the apocalypse does not happen.' Dean exchanged a glance with Bobby, who shrugged in that way of his that said "it might just be crazy enough to work."

'It's a stupid plan,' Dean told Eric.

'I'll need the knife.'

'You're insane,' Dean pointed out. 'I'm not letting you walk out of here with our best weapon.'

'You can't come with me. If your presence is known, the whole plan is ruined.'

'No.'

'If I kill her Sam is free of his destiny,' Eric insisted.

'Sam needs you alive,' Dean snapped. He swallowed at the admission. 'Or, undead, whatever.'

'This is our best chance. I am going, with or without your knife, though I admit my chances without it are slim.' Eric started for the door, and Dean cursed the idiot vampire aloud, rather colorfully.

'Wait...' Eric stopped. 'Fine.' Dean had a feeling he was going to regret this decision.

It took a bit of searching to get the knife. None of them could remember who took care of it during Sam's transportation. They found it at the bottom of the Impala's trunk. Somehow, the three of them ended up outside, standing around saying goodbye as if they were really sad to see the vamp go. Dean tried not to let guilt creep into him. So what if the vamp wanted to go out and die with a stupid plan?

Thankfully, there were no sounds from the basement. Eric looked cold in just a t-shirt and jeans in the night, but that was nothing new.

Once the knife was in Eric's hand, Dean gave him one last warning.

'If you don't bring this back, I'm gonna be really mad.' Eric nodded, a smile tugging at his lips at the empty threat. He dug into his pocket, bringing out a vile filled with blood.

'Here, take it. Give him a few drops if he deteriorates.' Dean took it, trying not to grimace at the thought of feeding Sam. He nodded to Eric, his only attempt at saying "good luck." Eric turned to Bobby, holding out his hand.

'Thank you for your invitation.' Dean didn't know if that was a vampire thing to say, but Bobby nodded and took the hand.

'Give her hell,' the old hunter said. Eric didn't drag out the goodbye. He was gone in the blink of an eye. Dean glanced sideways at Bobby.

'You really think this was a good idea?'

'If a vamp wants to try and save the world, who are we to tell him no? Besides, if he can't kill her with all his strength and speed, you ain't gonna get no closer with that knife.' With that Bobby went inside, leaving Dean to stare out into the darkness, wondering if he would feel more annoyed if Eric died or succeeded.

XXX

Eric was walking down a long hallway, his shoulders hunched and eyes alert. He kept scanning behind him, but the hallway stretched out in both directions, dark and beckoning.

A whispered voice reached his ears. He spun around, but no one was there.

The light was blurry, almost as if there was a mist indoors.

A door led to a large room. Sam was there, right there, lying on a bed, seemingly sleeping.

Eric was above him, reaching out.

'Sam,' he whispered reverently. Just as he touched Sam's cheek, the hunter burst off the bed, fangs going straight for Eric's jugular. The blood poured, and poured, and poured, more going down Sam's shirt than into his mouth, but that didn't matter.

His eyes went black.

'NO!'

'Easy, Sammy, I got you, just let me-'

'No more! No more blood, please, no more.'

'I know you don't want it, Sammy, but it's helping you, I promise.'

Then there was warmth on his tongue, and peace. Beautiful, silent, peace.


	10. Chapter 10

Notes: This story began as a fun oneshot, and ended up eclipsing the story I was originally working on (which I will now get back to!). Thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed this story. You're awesome.

Extra note: I don't think I've ever mentioned this, but I'm a fairly big Shakespeare fan. I read his sonnets very often, about one every other day for a few years now. I know it's a bit corny, but I wanted Eric to express himself using a sonnet. It just seems like the type of thing a thousand year vampire would do. I picked a fairly popular one, but also one of my favorites. Hope you don't cringe too much. If anyone hates reading Shakespearean English (which many people I know do) you can google the number (55) and probably find a modern version side-by-side. Also it's IMPORTANT to read it aloud, please. I can't stand people who read poetry silent, lol.

-:-

Chapter 10: Last Chapter because otherwise I'll go insane. ;)

Eric had fought many battles. Most of them he knew he could win, but far from all. Contrary perhaps to popular belief, vampires did indeed have a fight or flight instinct.

Eric only entered a fight he didn't know he could win if it was worth dying for.

When Ruby had been in control, he had been in a dream state most of the time. He knew it was impossible, silly even, but he was certain he had dreamt all this:

The stone corridor leading to the room with the altar, the cold wind that didn't really effect him, but gave a strange sense of comfort, and the loneliness.

Most of all, he was certain he had dreamt his death. But perhaps that was just his mind playing tricks with him. He had waited a thousand years for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. It seemed petty to care how he went out. He didn't really believe in having the last laugh, as long as he had justice for himself and those he cared for.

It didn't matter if his opponent didn't see it coming. Once, perhaps it had, but he was far too old for that now.

The doors were open. He could see Lilith standing in front of the altar, her back to him. He knew Ruby's ability to connect with other demons was limited due to his presence. His first hope in his plan was that it also prevented other demons from recognizing her. Even after having spent all that time riding in the backseat to a very chatty demon, he still couldn't understand the complexities of their power-levels.

Which meant he had no idea how this confrontation would even begin. He could be dead in a moment.

She appeared to be quite serene, waiting for her death. Eric felt a stab of jealousy. Though he was content to die tonight, he did not wish to fail. That would mean Sam's destiny could still be fulfilled.

She didn't turn until he was by the door, and when she did Eric was prepared for her to look into his eyes and find them wanting. She smiled in greeting, however. First test confirmed- she could not immediately tell he wasn't Ruby. He tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. Old reflexes could still pop up even in the oldest of vampires.

'Where's Sam?' she asked lightly.

'He'll be along,' Eric replied, giving her an evil smirk for added effect. He made sure to speak with American accent, the way Ruby had preferred. 'He thinks we're approaching from different sides, ambushing you.' Lilith smiled, delighted.

'How's the vamp treating you?' she said with a slight drawl. 'It's a bit unnerving, the way you appear.'

'He's annoying, but I am in control.'

'And he's still dampening your powers?'

'Yes, I haven't been able to subdue him.'

'You feel… cold'

'I am in control,' Eric assured her.

'Good.' She turned back to her alter, running her hands over it in a sensual manner. Eric walked forwards causally, coming to stand a few feet to her right. He gazed on her with admiration.

'Any moment now,' he said, voice filled with anticipation. She gave a sigh of pleasure.

'Yes,' she whispered, her eyes closing at the thought of her master's arrival.

Eric struck, as quickly as his vampiric speed would allow. The knife almost touched her skin before she stopped it with an iron grip on his wrist.

He looked into her eyes and saw pure rage. It did not surprise him, but it still filled him with dread.

XXX

There were no arms that held him tight this time, only worn restraints barely doing their job. Sam saw the fan above him, breathing in slowly and watching it come into focus.

It must have taken longer this time, he thought. There was barely a sense of time left in him at all.

He didn't know how long he lay there, feeling his body. He felt thirsty, for water, and instead of calling out he relished in the feeling for a moment. He could tell from the opening above the fan that it was day, so perhaps that was why Eric wasn't there.

'Dean!' he called out, hoping his voice sounded normal enough for Dean to recognize it. He didn't call again, but waited patiently, as a normal person would. Finally, he heard quick steps on the stairs and the door creaked open.

'Sam?' Dean asked the second he popped his head in. Sam tried to smile as normally as possible.

'Hey.'

'You feeling okay today?' Dean came inside, his eyes scanning Sam like they always did when Sam was hurt or sick.

'Yeah, I think it's over. Feels like it, anyway,' Sam rolled his shoulders as much as the restraints would allow him. 'I'm a bit sore, and thirsty, and hungry,' he added as he took stock of his bodily needs. Dean snorted softly.

'Sounds good to me,' he said and undid the restraints.

'Is Eric still around?' Sam was trying for unaffected, but Dean's sudden stiffness made him give that up. 'Dean? Where is he?' His brother finished undoing the binds and got up.

'Why don't I go make you some breakfast. The whole nine yards, all right? We'll talk after.' He didn't wait for a reply, and left in a hurry. Sam swallowed as he sat up, very slowly, feeling his joints creak. Dean had sounded worried. Was it just because Eric had gone missing, or something even worse?

He felt an odd crinkling in his pocket and checked it, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He was pretty sure he hadn't put it there. Dean wasn't the type to leave secret notes on his person, so Sam opened it carefully, holding his breath.

Out of all the possibilities his mind had entertained, a poem was not it. At first it didn't seem like the type of thing Eric would do, but once he thought about it, and the words on the paper spilled into his mind, he realized a thousand year old vampire would probably think a poem would be the best way to say anything even slightly emotionally taxing.

Or a sonnet, in this case. Sam was well-read, but he wasn't familiar with all of Shakespeare 's sonnet. He couldn't recall if he had ever read this one, but he was pretty sure he would never forget it.

No longer mourn for me when I am dead

Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell

Give warning to the world that I am fled

From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:

Nay, if you read this, remember not

The hand that writ it; for I love you so

That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot

If thinking of me should bring you woe.

O, if, I say, you look upon this verse

When I perhaps compounded am with clay,

Do not so much as my poor name rehearse.

But let your love even with my life decay,

Lest the wise world should look into your moan

And mock you with me after I am gone.

He must have read it ten times over. The words glided easily into his mind, but their meaning were refused entry. In the face of such simple, sad, old beauty, Sam's modern mind was inadequate to the task.

He was running up the stairs and into the kitchen before his mind had even left the bed.

Dean spun around at the abrupt entry, just in time to see Sam's circulation-system tell him he'd over-estimated his recovery. He swayed precariously, his vision fogging.

Dean was right there, holding him up.

'Hey, hey, easy there big boy,' he said. 'Why'd you do that? You're like a hungry puppy, I swear.'

'Eric,' Sam gasped out as his vision returned. He grabbed hold of Dean's shoulders, the paper crumpling in his right hand. 'Where is he?' Dean's face contorted in uncomfortable grief.

'Let's talk about it later,' he shrugged out of Sam's grasp.

'No,' Sam said, holding the paper in front of Dean's face. 'Tell me now.' Dean gave him an odd look before grabbing the paper and unfolding it. His eyes scanned the words. He couldn't have gotten halfway before he rolled his eyes in frustration and sighed.

'Jesus Christ, Eric,' he muttered angrily.

'Where is he?' Sam repeated sharply.

'He went after Lilith,' Dean explained tiredly.

'What? When? How? Why?' Dean didn't meet his eyes, but looked down at the paper in his hands without really seeing it.

'He said he was going, with or without our help, so we gave him the knife, and he went.'

'You gave him the knife?' Sam asked incredulously.

'I thought I'd give him a snowball's chance, at least,' Dean explained.

'What happened?' Sam asked, unsure if he wanted to know.

'We're pretty sure Lilith is dead.'

It took a few seconds for Sam's mind to wrap itself around that. In the end, it was superfluous information.

'And Eric?'

'We don't know,' Dean admitted. 'Castiel came by the day after Eric left and told us Lilith was gone, but he couldn't find Eric.'

Sam walked over to the kitchen table and sat down heavily.

'I'm not saying this to make you feel better,' Dean began, 'but Castiel is pretty sure the Apocalypse is a no-go for the foreseeable future. Unless the devil can find a new first lieutenant and somehow get everything set up just right again, he's stuck in there for our life-times at least.'

Sam sighed deeply.

'Good,' he said. Dean slowly put the paper down in front of him on the table. Eric's handwriting looked old and crooked, almost like Shakespeare himself might have written it. Sam suddenly felt a stupid regret that he had never asked Eric what life had been like during the 16th century.

'With vilest worms to dwell,' he whispered.

'What?' Dean asked from where he was back at the stove cooking breakfast, giving Sam his semi-privacy to take it all in.

'Where do vampires go?' Sam asked, looking up, unaware of the deep sadness etched on his face.

'I don't know, Sammy,' Dean said apologetically.

Sam got up and went outside, not feeling particularly hungry. The sun shone, annoyingly. He wandered around the empty shells of former cars, feeling right at home.

'Castiel?' he asked. 'I know you're probably busy-' He stopped short when the angel appeared before him, wearing what Sam could only describe as a pitying expression.

'Sam,' he said gravely.

'Hey,' Sam replied awkwardly.

'I have been waiting for your recovery.'

'Oh...' Sam felt almost touched.

'You want to ask me about Eric,' Castiel surmised. Sam nodded, putting his hands in his pockets and kicking away a few pebbles by his feet, as if he was a child that knew he wouldn't like the next conversation.

'Did you really not find him?'

'He was not at the sight where Lilith died, that is as much as I know.' Sam tried to keep the hope from his heart.

'So he could still be alive?'

'I… I believe he is.' Sam let out a breath at Castiel's admission. He turned and paced up and down once, trying to get his mind out of the grief-filled hole he had been in.

'So… where is he?'

'Somewhere he does not want to be found,' Castiel suggested. Sam closed his eyes, the picture finally clear.

'He thinks he needs to stay away from me,' he whispered.

'Dean explained to me that the vampire felt guilty over what happened to you, and that he is staying away because he loves you.'

'Dean explained?' Sam repeated.

'Yes,' Castiel nodded. Sam let out a huff of breath, shaking his head.

'Typical,' he muttered. 'Thank you.' He turned to go.

'Sam,' Castiel stopped him. 'I'm sorry for my earlier threats on your life.'

'Uh… thanks.'

'I never thought I'd see the day when a vampire would stop Lucifer,' Castiel admitted.

'Yeah,' Sam agreed. That was pretty incredible. He nodded once to Castiel and hurried back inside. Dean was now sitting at the kitchen table, eating more than his fair share. Sam spared a thought to wonder where Bobby was, but figured it might still be early. They kept odd hours after all.

'Eric is still alive, you jerk,' Sam blurted. Dean looked up at him, sighed and put down his fork.

'Sam-'

'It's one thing not getting my hopes up, but to actually lie to me,' Sam began. Dean started speaking, their voices going louder as they argued, talking over each other.

'We thought he was dead, at first-'

'I thought you had accepted this-'

'Castiel went over the place again-'

'If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead ten times over for Christ's sake!'

'He wants to stay GONE, Sam!' Dean rose abruptly, eyes flashing in anger. Sam clenched his jaw and forced himself to keep silent. 'He left that stupid poem-'

'Sonnet,' Sam muttered.

'Because he left, for good,' Dean explained patiently. 'He wants you to have some sort of normal life.'

'Screw normal,' Sam snapped. Dean rolled his eyes.

'A normal love-life at least,' he amended.

'Neither of us are under any illusions that we'll find some nice girl to settle down with,' Sam growled. He tilted his head to the side, contemplating his brother. 'Is that why? You hate the fact that I found someone who can share this life?'

'Let's get one thing straight,' Dean said sharply, 'Eric can't share a life with you, because he's not even alive. He's gone. Accept it.' Dean left the table, and his food, and stalked out of the kitchen. Sam followed him outside, but stopped on the top of the porch, watching as Dean headed for some car he was working on.

'Would you let them go?' Sam asked, causing Dean to stop short. 'If you loved another hunter? If they left out of guilt for something that wasn't their fault?'

'It was his fault,' Dean said, not even turning around to face Sam. He appeared to be about to walk on, but then changed his mind and turned around, giving Sam a resigned look. 'I've tried to accept the fact that you love him, Sammy, and I know he saved the world, but I can't-'

He shook his head.

'I can't be sorry he's gone.' With that he walked away.

Sam watched him go.

XXX

Dean felt bad. He tried not to. He started work on the car, wondering if he should wake Bobby up so he could deal with Sam. The old hunter had taken the last watch, however, so Dean felt worse for even considering it.

He hadn't even really started working when he threw the wrench away and went back inside. Sam needed to understand. He hadn't really meant it the way it had come out.

He heard Sam's voice from the living room, but not the actual words. He approached quietly. Eavesdropping came natural to the Winchesters.

'Eric, please pick up,' Sam was whispering. Dean peaked around the corner. Sam was sitting on the couch, one hand on his forehead. His eyes were closed.

'Come on, you idiot, pick up.' He waited two more rings before he pulled the phone from his ear and stared at the display, finally flipping the thing closed. He threw it away and it hit the wall with quite a bit of force. Both hands on his face now, Sam hunched over. Dean realized he was trying not to cry.

Dean watched for a few seconds more before heading back outside. He stopped once he was out in the gravel yard, and looked up.

'Hey, Cas. You still around?'

'Yes, I have been watching.' Castiel appeared right in front of him. 'I am not a fan of the vampire either, but you both deserve peace.'

'You sound like it's all over.'

'It is… for now.'

'There are still monsters out there,' Dean pointed out. 'And Eric is one of them.'

'The whole world knows about Eric's kind,' Castiel mused. 'Some might call them monsters, but do you hunt the monsters everyone knows about?'

'That's semantics,' Dean pointed out. Castiel shrugged.

'I don't think an angel is the right person to ask for advice about vampires.' Dean sighed, glancing back at the house.

'Can you find him?'

'I will try, for both of you.'

'Thanks.' But when Dean glanced back, Castiel was already gone, as usual.

XXX

Eric struck, as quickly as his vampiric speed would allow. The knife almost touched her skin before she stopped it with an iron grip on his wrist.

He looked into her eyes and saw pure rage. It did not surprise him, but it still filled him with dread.

'You really thought you had a chance?' She hissed. Eric raised his other hand and tried to hit her across the face. She was quick and dodged.

Then the fight began.

She appeared to be playing with him, liking the physicality of it. His speed was new to her compared to the humans she so easily consumed.

'Where is Ruby?' she gasped after Eric had managed to hit her a few times.

'She's here,' Eric lied. 'Desperate to break through.'

They danced, they broke stone and wood and glass, but never bone or muscle. She could use her powers on him, but clearly chose not to, or perhaps she was saving it for something. Her speed wasn't actually that much quicker than his own, however.

She got hold of his throat and raised him up high above her head. Since he didn't have to breathe, it was merely an inconvenience.

'Ruby,' she growled.

'Yes, I'm here,' Eric gasped. For just a fraction of a second, Lilith's eyes narrowed as she tried to verify his statement. In this minute moment of distraction, Eric kicked her in the stomach with all his force. She flew backwards, her grip slipping. Even before Eric himself had hit the ground, he had brought the knife up. To a human it would have passed before they could even see it, but to Eric it was an eternity.

He was charging her even though she had still to hit the floor. He struck just as she raised her arm to no doubt blast him away, but this time, he was quicker.

The pure shock on her face was priceless.

'No,' she gasped as he twisted the knife deep in her gut. Such a little mistake, all because of arrogance.

When the life has burned out of her, Eric felt oddly bereft. After all that, he still wasn't dead.

He thought about Sam, and the goodbye note of sorts he had left. It was best if it didn't go to waste. It was best if he went away.

XXX

Sam was moping. He would never admit it, but he was. Dean and Bobby had gotten sick of it, so they had both escaped into town for supplies and groceries. Dean had insisted they not start hunting until Sam was absolutely sure he was feeling a hundred precent again. He wasn't sure if he was ever going to feel a hundred percent ever again, maudlin as the thought was.

When sundown neared, Sam decided Dean and Bobby had probably hit the bars. Not that he blamed them. He made himself dinner and read some books.

He was sitting with only the table-lamp on, fairly engrossed in a book about vampires, predictably enough. Maybe it was a form of self-torture, but he wasn't really thinking in those terms.

He heard the door open and close softly, which made him immediately alert. Dean and Bobby would have made more noise.

He heard steps, deliberate, slow steps, signaling that whoever was approaching wasn't trying to sneak up on him. He was still tense, wanting to go for a weapon, but the nearest one was the shotgun on the coffee table.

When Eric came through the from the hall, he didn't know whether to release a breath or suck one in. His brain short-circuited and he ended up half-gasping, half-choking as he stumbled out of his chair and around the desk. Eric watched him, his eyes betraying nothing, causing Sam to stop short of reaching him.

'Eric,' he said, hoping for a reaction.

'Sam.'

'You came back.'

'I was brought back, by your angel.'

'Castiel found you?' Sam asked, surprised.

'Yes, he seemed to suggest I deserve some sort of consideration due to my recent actions.'

'You killed Lilith, you saved me.'

'You don't want me around.' Eric sounded like he convincing not just Sam. The hunter took a cautious step forward. Eric didn't move.

'Don't go all Twilight on me,' Sam tried to joke. From the look Eric gave him, the vampire didn't get it. Sam smiled. 'Just, don't be stupid,' he explained calmly, feeling more and more elated with every second Eric was there. 'I'm a grown man, I make my own decisions.' He took another step forward.

'Free will,' Eric murmured with a soft snort at the end. He gazed at Sam for a long moment. 'When you've lived on this earth for a millennium, a single human life passes by in a moment. I suppose I thought it was easier to say goodbye now.'

'I'm not gonna live to old age,' Sam said with absolute certainty. 'I understand if you don't want to stick around.' Eric stepped closer suddenly, taking Sam's face gently in his cold hands, and kissing it chastely, but firmly. Sam tried to kiss back, but Eric pulled away.

'Better to have loved and lost, as they say,' he murmured, before kissing Sam more deeply. They opened their mouths to each other, and Sam moaned at the familiar feeling he had missed so much. He sneaked his arms around Eric's waist and pulled the vamp flush against him. Their making-out session was getting quite heated, so Sam finally pulled away enough to ask:

'Bedroom?'

'Yes,' Eric hissed. Sam ran first, knowing Eric would be annoyed at their slow ascent. Sure enough, Eric started pushing him halfway up the stairs. Sam laughed as they entered the bedroom.

'Impatient?' He didn't get a verbal answer, just more kisses, hard and demanding now. 'Don't rip the shirt,' he warned, just in case Eric got any ideas. He didn't have that many shirts to spare. Eric made a growling noise of annoyance and unbuttoned Sam's shirt with lightening speed instead. He then pulled off the t-shirt underneath and shoved Sam backwards on the bed.

Sam laughed, feeling better than he had in longer than he could remember. Eric wasn't going to waste time waxing poetical about their reunion, however, and set to work on Sam's pants. They were pulled off unceremoniously.

'Hey, work on your own clothes too,' Sam admonished. Eric was quick to comply, crawling over Sam once they were both down to their boxers.

Sam was paler now thanks to his time spent with Eric, but no where near the paleness of the vampire, so they still created a nice contrast. Eric captured his lips in a deep kiss as he ground downwards.

'Yes, this, just this,' Sam murmured, closing his eyes in contentment as Eric moved on to kissing his jaw and throat. It was only now, with the real Eric, he realized how fucked up the blood had made him for him to not have realized. Eric was nothing like Ruby in bed. He was gentle when needed, playful when appropriate and always devouring.

'You can say no of course,' Eric whispered, 'but I would like to taste you, just to make sure.' Sam stopped, his eyes snapping open at the thought, wondering if it should upset him, but no, Eric had tasted him before all that had happened with Ruby, and he would again after.

'You think there's still some left?'

'The level of demon blood may still be higher than your normal level, if it can be called such a thing. I merely wish to ascertain how far detoxed you are.'

'Go ahead.' Sam tilted his head back, letting his eyes fall shut again as Eric kissed his neck, almost as if he was looking for the right spot to bite. He found it soon enough.

He only took a few drops, but it still aroused Sam. Maybe he was a fangbanger, but there were far worse things to be in this world.

'You are almost completely detoxed.'

'Good. It felt longer, but it wasn't as bad.' Eric stiffened abruptly, pulling back and looking into Sam's eyes.

'He didn't tell you,' he concluded.

'Didn't tell me what?' Sam asked. What more secrets could there be?

'I was certain he would, and blame me. I should have realized when you were so eager to have me back, that you don't know.'

'Don't know what?'

Eric pushed himself up and sat on the bed. Sam felt cold, even though it was actually warmer without the vampire on top of him.

'I gave you my blood,' Eric said softly. 'I broke my promise. Dean asked me to, and I did not have the strength to refused. Understand, we were both trying to spare you pain.' Eric didn't look at him, clearly braced for a violent reaction, but Sam found he had none.

Maybe he should be furious, but he didn't want to be furious at Eric. He didn't want to fight, or waste anymore time. The overwhelming anger he so often felt was finally overpowered by a stronger emotion; to treasure the time he had.

'You shouldn't have done that,' he said finally. 'But I don't remember it, so I doubt it really made that much of a difference. I'm not addicted to V, I don't think.'

'It was only a few drops,' Eric told him.

'I think I would have done the same, and I know Dean would have done it, if it had been his choice.' Sam gave Eric a pleading look when the vampire finally turned to look at him, putting on his best puppy-dog look. He held out his hand. 'Come back to bed, now.'

'You're not angry?'

'I'll be angry tomorrow, if I'm feeling up to it.' Eric studied him, as if he couldn't quite believe it. Sam wasn't sure he believed it himself, but with Lilith gone, and the destiny Yellow Eyes had chosen him for finally broken, it was like the anger had let go.

Eric finally crawled back over Sam, who grabbed him and kissed him hard before he'd managed to move into position. They quickly returned to their previous activity, grinding harder and more insistent. Sam stuck his hand down Eric's boxers and smirked when he made Eric hiss.

'I want you,' Eric told him. 'She stole you from me, and I want to take you back.' Sam couldn't help the breathless laugh that escape him. Not because the thought was ridiculous, but because he had been thinking the exact same thing.

'Yes,' he sighed. He heard a ripping sound and looked down. Eric had ripped their boxers to pieces. 'Eric,' he sighed. 'Show off.' His mock protestations were cut off with more kisses and much more pleasurable activities. Eric put all his effort into making Sam feel every nerve along his skin tingling with hot and cold. He was sweating, but every time Eric licked or touched him, it was like someone was gliding ice on his skin. He had come to enjoy the feeling very much, but it only became this intense when they lost all sense of time and sense of themselves. On the road, there was never enough time.

'Jesus, Eric, fuck me already,' Sam gasped.

'We have all night,' Eric countered.

'Well, if you're still fucking me when the sun comes up, I'm gonna be pissed.'

'And hot,' Eric pointed out before finally giving in to his own strong need.

They might have made the rickety old bed creak obscenely, and they also might have made a few animalistic sounds, but Sam would always remember that night as a quiet one. It was like his ears were stuffed with cotton, because all his other senses were using all of his brain-power.

When they finished, Eric collapsing on top of Sam, it was only the human who needed to pant, but they both did, maybe in solidarity with each other. Eric twisted off, practically snuggling up to Sam's side.

'You're lying on the covers,' he pointed out. The duvet had been pushed during their rough movements, so it was indeed just under Sam. He huffed and pulled it free, draping it over them.

'How long before the sun comes up?' Sam asked.

'Hours,' Eric said.

'We should ask Bobby to cover up the fan in the panic room. You could sleep there, or we could board up the windows here.'

'No, you need light,' Eric whispered. 'I am more comfortable outside.'

'In the dirt?'

'We will be on the road soon enough, and I have become rather fond of the earth. It's been a long time since I slept so many nights in it.'

'You're weird,' Sam pronounced. He sighed when Eric shifted him so they were properly snuggled up, Sam's on Eric's shoulder. 'Maybe that's why you fit in around here.'

'I'm not sure about your definition of fitting in, but considering the company here, I'll take it as a compliment.' Sam was too tired to deconstruct that sentence, so he fell asleep instead.

XXX

Sam came down in the morning to find Dean making breakfast yet again.

'Hey,' he said. 'I didn't hear you guys get in last night.'

'Yeah, well we heard you,' Dean muttered, turning to put a fresh plate of bacon on the table and giving Sam a look.

'Oh-' Sam felt his face heat up.

'Yeah, oh,' Dean grumbled. 'Bobby's scarred for life.'

'Jesus, you're kidding.' Sam face-palmed.

'Yeah, I am. Old man was too drunk to notice,' Dean grinned.

'You bastard!'

'But seriously, dude, get a gag ball of something.'

'Dude!' Sam's face had never been that red. Dean chuckled.

'He sticking around then?' he asked as they sat down to eat.

'I think so,' Sam said, feeling his heart swell at the thought. Dean nodded.

'Okay then. He's a good hunter, I'll give him that.'

'You're really okay with it?'

'Life's too short, Sam. Having a world-saving vamp around might just prolong it.'

'Yeah, it might.'

'Just not in the whole, getting turned into one, right?' Dean's question hadn't been asked in a serious manner, but Sam could tell from Dean's look that he was deadly serious.

'I don't want to live forever, Dean, and Eric knows that. We've made our peace with it. He promised me he'd walk away when the time came.'

'Yeah, well, how do you know he keeps his promises?'

'Well, as long as you don't ask him to break it, I suppose we're okay,' Sam short back sharply.

'He told you about that, did he?'

'Yeah, he did, but I'm not mad.'

'You're not?' Dean sounded more shocked than Sam liked, but he knew it was pretty shocking.

'Life's too short, Dean,' he said, smiling. 'But I'm still gonna hold it over you for quite some time, so I expect a lot more of this.' He indicated the breakfast. Dean rolled his eyes and took the last slice of bacon, but stopped mid-air when Sam gave him a look and sighed before forking the thing over. Sam ate very happily.

In the end he got a bad stomach from eating so much right after his detox, but he still claimed it was worth it.

The End.


End file.
